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PhotDgrapnic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notas/Notaa  tachniquas  et  bibliographiquas 


T 
to 


Tha  Instituta  has  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  bast 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Faatures  of  this 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagas  in  tha 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


□    Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


D 


D 
D 


D 
D 


D 


Couverture  endommagie 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pelliculAe 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartas  gAographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


r~^    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


D 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  tr  aterial/ 
Relii  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serree  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distorsion  le  long  da  la  marge  intdriaure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  psut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mats,  lorsque  cela  itait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
psis  ixi  film^es. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl^mentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meiileur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  M  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  paut-^tre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  m^thoda  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquAs  ci-dessous. 


□    Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□    Pagea  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 

r~l    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


D 


Pages  restaur^es  et/ou  pellicul^es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  ddcolor^es,  tachaties  ou  piquees 


□Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ddtachses 

QShowthrough/ 
Transparence 

□    Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualiti  inigale  de  {'impression 

□    Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplementairs 

□    Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


Pages  fvhoily  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips   r.dsues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totaiement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata.  une  peiure, 
etc..  cnt  M  film^es  i  nouveau  de  facon  a 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


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This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmd  au  taux  de  rMuction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

/ 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


tails 
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une 
mage 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Harold  Campbell  Vaughan  Memorial  Library 
Acadia  University 

The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legib'*'ty 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


L'exemplaire  film*  fut  reproduit  grAce  A  la 
gAnirosit*  de: 

Harold  Campbell  Vaughan  Memorial  Library 
Acadia  Univeriity 

Les  images  suivantes  o  «t  4t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin.  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  netteti  de  l'exemplaire  film*,  et  en 
conformity  aveu  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exempiaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimie  sont  film6s  en  commen^ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  ompreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iilustration.  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exempiaires 
originaux  sont  filmte  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iilustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  "^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END' ), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  -^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmis  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diff6rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  ciichi,  11  est  film*  A  partir 
de  Tangle  supirieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n6cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


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HALIBURTON'S 


YANKEE   STORIES. 


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ILLUJTEATIONS 


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LINDSAY  &  BLAKISTON, 

M.  W.  CORNER    FOURTH    AlfD   CHI8TNUT    STS. 

1846. 


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.^•: 


The  following  Sketches,  as  far  as  the  twenty- 
first  chapter,  originally  appeared  in  the  '^Nota- 
scotian"  Newspaper.  The  great  popularity 
they  acquired,  induced  the  Editor  of  that 
paper  to  apply  to  the  Author  for  the  remaining 
part  of  the  series,  and  permission  to  publish 
the  whole  entire.  This  request  having  been 
acceded  to,  the  Editor  has  now  the  pleasure 
of  laying  them  before  the  public  in  their  present 

shape.         '  .-'r-:'^-.-  ^'^-.  '■':.■..■■"-: '■■'^- ^"^:'   '    :^: 


HaltfaXt  December,  1890. 


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CONTENTS  OF  PART  FIRST. 


Slick's  LBTTBa 7 

1.  The  Trotting  Horae 11 

9.  The  Clockmaker 15 

3.  The  Silent  Oiria 19 

4.  Conversations  at  the  River  Philip 23 

5.  Justice  Pettifog , 25 

6.  Anecdotes 28 

7.  Go  Ahead 31 

8.  The  Preacher  that  wandered  fror^  but  Text 35 

9.  Yankee  Eating  and  Horse  Feeding  40 

10.  The  Road  to  a  Woman's  Heart—The  Broken  Heart 45 

11.  Cumberland  Oysters  produce  melanch(dy  forebodings 50 

12.  The  American  Eagle 55 

13.  The  Clockmaker's  Opinion  of  Halifax 62 

14.  Sayings  and  Doings  in  Cumberland 68 

15.  The  Dancing  Master  Abroad 72 

16.  Mr.  Slick's  Opinion  of  the  British 78 

17   A  Yankee  Handle  for  a  Halifax  Blade 84 

18.  The  Grahamite  and  the  Irish  Pilot 90 

19.  The  Clockmaker  quilts  a  Blue  Nose 96 

20.  Sister  Sail's  Courtship 101 

21.  Setting  up  for  Governor 106 

22.  A  Cure  for  Conceit 114 

23.  The  Blowin  Time 120 

24.  Father  John  O'Shaughnessy 124 

25.  Taming  a  Shrew 137 

26.  The  Minister's  Horn  Mug  137 

27.  The  White  Nigger 143 

28.  Fire  in  the  Dairy 148 

29.  A  Body  without  a  Head 153 

30.  A  Tale  of  Bunker's  Hill 158 

31.  Gulling  a  Blue  Nose 163 

32.  Too  many  Irons  in  the  fire  ,,,,,  =  =  ,  =  ., 168 

33.  Windsor  and  the  Far  West 174 

..    .|,».    .-  .  (5) 


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V-    ft.  Sl.ICK'S  LETTER,  ^.i^v 

f  Allerthcse  flketdws  ha^  gone  through  the  pre«,  and  were  twAf 
'  ibr  publkation,  we  sent  Mr.  SliolF  a  copy ;  and  shortly  after* 
war^  received  firein  him  the  Mowinf  letter,  which  character* 
,  iftip  cfHiunuiucatifm  w^  givf  ^ig^tirck'-^'StDrroB.] 

TolOiu^owiB. 

Sir, — 1  received  your  letter,  and  note  its  contents* 
I  aSnt  oyer  h^ilf  pleased,  I  tell  ypu«  I  tbink  I  have  11>eeo 
used  scandalous,  that!s  a  iact  tt  wam't  the  |>art  of  a 
l^entlenian  /or  to  go  and  pump  n)e  arter  that  fitshion, 
and  then  jf/>  right  o^  and  hkurt  It  out  in  print*  II  was 
a  nastyi  dirty,  mean  action,  and  J  don't  thank  youi^r 
the  S<^ire  a  bit  hr  it  It  will  he  more  nor  a  thousand 
dollars  out  of  my  pocket  There's  an  eend  to  the  Qock 
trade  now,  and  a  pretty  kettle  of  j6sh  IVe  made  on  it, 
hav'nt  n  I  4iaU  never  hear  the  last  on  it,  and  what 
am  I  to  say  when  I  go  back  to  ^  States?  1*11  t9^<9 
my  oath  I  <neyer  said  one-half  the  stuff*  he  has  set  down 
there ;  and  as  for  l^at  long  lodhrum  about  lyiir.  Evi^rett^ 
and  the  Hon.  Alden  Gobble,  and  Minister,  there  itint  a 
word  of  truth  in  it  from  be^nin  to  eend.  Jf  ever  \ 
come  near  hand  ixi  him  agin,  I'll  lam  him — ^but  nev^ 
mind,  I  say  nothin.  Now  there's  (me  thii^  I  don't 
cleverly  understand.  If  this  here  book  is  my  *Sayin» 
and  Doins,*  how  com^  it  yourn  or  the  Squire's  either? 
if  my  thoi^hts  and  noti<»is  are  iny  own,  bow  can  they 

(7) 


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"§iv\' 


be  any  other  folks's?  According  to  my  idee  you  have 
no  more  right  to  take  them,  than  you  have  to  take  my 
clocks  without  payin  for  *em.  A  man  that  would  be 
guilty  of  such  an  action  is  no  gentleman,  that's  flat,  and 
if  you  don't  like  it,  you  may  lump  it — for  I  don't  valy 
him,  nor  you  neither,  nor  are  a  blue-nose  that  ever 
stept  in  shoe-leather,  the  matter  of  a  pin's  head.  I 
4on't  know  as  ever  I  felt  so  ugly  afore  since  I  was 
raised ;  why  didn't  he  put  his  name  to  it,  as  well  as 
mine  1  When  an  article  han't  the  maker's  name  and 
factory  on  it,  it  shows  it's  a  cheat,  and  he's  ashamed  to 
own  it.  If  I'm  to  have  the  name,  I'll  have  the  game, 
or  I'll  know  the  cause  why,  that's  a  fact.  Now  folks 
say  you  are  a  considerable  of  a  candid  man,  and  right 
up  and  down  in  your  dealins,  and  do  things  above 
board,  han^sum — at  least  so  I've  beam  tell.  That's 
what  I  like;  I  love  to  deal  with  such  folks.  Now 
s'pose  you  make  me  an  oflfer  ?  You'll  find  me  not  very 
difficult  to  trade  vnth,  and  I  don't  know  but  I  might 
put  off  more  than  half  of  the  books  myself  tu.  I'll  tell 
you  how  Pd  work  it  I'd  say,  *  Here's  a  book  they've 
namesaked  arter  me,  Sam  Slick,  the  Clockmaker,  but 
it  tante  mine,  and  I  can't  altc^ether  jist  say  rightly 
whose  it  is.  Some  say  it's  the  General's,  and  some  say 
it's  the  Bishop's,  and  some  says  it's  Howe  himself;  but  I 
aint  availed  who  it  b.  It's  a  wise  child  that  knows  its 
own  father.  It  wipes  up  the  blue-noses  considerable 
hard,  and  don't  let  off  the  Yankees  so  very  easy  nei- 
ther, but  it's  generally  allowed  to  be  about  the  prettiest 
Dook  ever  writ  in  this  country ;  and  although  it  ain 
Itogether  jist  gospel  what's  in  it,  there's  some  pretty 
home  truths  in  it,  that's  a  fact.  Whoever  wrote  it 
must  be  a  funny  feller,  too,  that's  sartin;  for  there  aic 


=^A-  ■Ij'-  ■.>,*.-^-i.-_;  :*.--. i'^*  '-'-■eattLVaiiV.y-.i^f  ■'■1>  .v,i'=JflS3iti--  ■.'■irJ^,'.'*^ 


"■    -1    ■■■"— -T- 


.  ->'■■      ^■■■^ 
slick's  LATTXIU 


ix 


Bome  queer  stories  in  it  that  no  soul  could  help  larfin  at, 
that's  a  fact  It's  about  the  wittiest  book  I  ever  see'd. 
Its  nearly  all  sold  off,  but  jist  a  few  copies  I've  kept  for 
my  old  customers  The  price  is  just  5s.  6d.t  but  I'll  let 
you  have  it  for  5«.,  because  you'll  not  get  another 
chance  to  have  one.'  Always  ax  a  sixpence  more  than 
the  price,  and  then  bate  it,  and  when  blue-nose  hears 
that,  he  thinks  he's  got  a  bargain,  and  bites  Erectly. 
I  never  see  one  cm  'em  yet  that<  didn't  §bM  right  into  the 
trap.     ■,  ■■:--^\:r'^'- 7,.->v,„-;%::  -^^'-j:?'-^^  ja v  •  - ^,'i^??" 

Yes,  make  me  an  offer,  and  you  and  I  will  trade,  ] 
think.  But  fair  play's  a  jewel,  and  I  must  say  I  feel 
ryled  and  kinder  sore.  I  han't  been  used  handsum 
atween  you  two,  and  it  don't  seem  to  me  that  I  had 
ought  to  be  made  a  fool  on  in  that  book,  arter  that 
fashion,  for  folks  to  laugh  at,  and  then  be  sheered  out 
of  the  spec.  If  I  am,  somebody  had  better  look  out  for 
squalls,  I  tell  you.  I'm  as  easy  as  an  old  glove,  but  a 
glove  aint  an  old  shoe  to  be  trod  on,  and  I  think  a  cer- 
tain person  will  find  that  out  afore  he  is  six  months 
older,  or  else  I'm  mistakened,  that's  all.  Hopin  to  hear 
from  you  soon,  I  remain  yours  to  command, 

.     SAMUEL  SLICK 


Pugnose's  Inn,  River  Philip,  Dec.  25, 1836. 


'.i:.*V»> 


p.  S.  I  see  in  the  last  page  it  is  writ,  that  the  Squire 
is  to  take  another  journey  round  the  Shore,  and  back 
to  Halifax  with  me  next  Spring.  Well,  I  did  agree 
with  him,  to  drive  him  round  the  coast,  but  don't  you 
mind — we'll  understand  each  other,  I  guess,  afore  we 
start.    I  concait   he'll   rise  considerable  airly  in    the 


ii*i 


\ 


■I'      :■',■>' 


X  ,^  slick's  LBTTBR.  ,  ' 

tnornin,  afore  he  catches  me  asleep  agin.  Til  he  wide 
awake  for  him  next  hitch,  that's  a  fact  I'd  a  ginn  a 
thousand  dollars  if  he  had  only  used  Camphcll's  name 
instead  of  mine ;  for  he  was  a  most  an  almighty  villain, 
and  cheated  a  proper  raft  of  folks,  and  then  shipped 
himself  olT  to  Botany  Bay,  for  fear  folks  would  transport 
him  there ;  you  couldn't  ruh  out  Slick,  and  put  in  Camp- 
bell, could  you  1  that's  a  good  feller ;  if  you  would  I'd 
make  it  worth  your  while,  you  may  depend. -e*"  ^^?*'s^^.  < 

:/--^i^-'hl  ""^^  ci'Kfe  4it^;  J^^l*  ^M^f-  iir^  i^^f"^^  -c^  ■ 


•  -,  V 

•#-'^^ 

^r'is^y.) 

"■::7v".-  ■ 

''  '■  '  r*' 

wi 

^'•'-''^\ 

'V''T''-  '-■'' 

.*^  * 

'^>i^.'r  - 

:.-'-i-M|' 


'^^% 


.^^*  -i-v:*; 


■f  •<,<.; 


.1'^ 


■  i^,:t'ii;  •■J.i.--  x'v^- 


r.jVv; 


V--4 


^^^•■■^*^>^v'y:-t:--i/T:- 


vj.j*^ 


>;'-'i.,J. 


m,"^ 


mi  '.niltilllim    '•  \ir1-i-<.-im^^i- 


.^^■Jh^^^M^k^f0  ■  :im-i»i'l^:,'..- 


"1 

i1 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


'u^ii^^m^'^    '    CHAPTER  I. 
*,>*^  .  d*^?*r>-H!   THE  TROTTING  HORSE. 


•'i^'r'^%>^A  m:- 


•V,.i¥4',|'j- 


I  WAS  always  well  mounted:  I  am  fond  of  a  horse^  and 
always  piqued  myself  on  having  the  fastest  trotter  m  the 
Provmce.  I  have  made  no  great  progress  in  the  world ;  1 
feel  doubly,  therefore,  the  pleasure  of  not  being  surpassed 
on  the  road.  I  never  feel  so  well  or  so  cheerful  as  on 
horseback,  for  there  is  something  exhilarating  in  quibk  mo- 
tion; and,  old  as  I  am,  I  feel  a  pleasure  in  making  any  per- 
son whom  I  meet  on  the  way  put  his  horse  to  the  full  gallop, 
to  keep  pace  with  my  trotter.  Poor  Ethiope !  you  recollect 
him,  how  he  was  wont  to  lay  back  his  ears  on  his  arched 
neck,  and  push  awa^  from  all  competition.  He  is  done, 
poor  fellow !  the  spavm  spoiled  his  speed,  and  he  now  roams 
at  large  upon  *  my  farm  at  Truro.*  Mohawk  never  failed 
me  till  this  summer.  i^cHi'^^ 

I  pride  myself,  (you  may  laugh  at  such  childish  weak- 
ness in  a  man  of  my  age,)  but  still,  I  pride  myself  in  taking 
the  conceit  out  of  coxcombs  I  meet  on  the  road,  and  on  the 
ease  with  which  I  can  leave  a  fool  behind,  whose  nonsense 
disturbs  my  solitary  musings. 

On  my  last  journey  to  Fort  Lawrence,  as  the  beautiful 
view  of  Colchester  had  just  opened  upon  me,  and  as  I  was 
contemplating  its  richness  and  exquisite  scenery,  a  tall 
thin  man,  with  hollow  cheeks  and  bright  twinkling  black 
eyes,  on  a  good  bay  horse,  somewhat  out  of  condition, 
overtook  me ;  and  drawing  up,  said,  I  guess  you  started 
early  this  morning,  Sir?  I  did  Sir,  I  replied.  You  did  not 
come  from  Halifax,  I  presume,  Sir.  did  you?  in  a  dialect 
too  rich  to  bo  mistaken  as  g«uuine  Yankee.     And  which 


'-m^ 


1*^ 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


way  may  you  be  travelling?  asked  my  inquisitive  com- 
panion.    To  Fort  Lawrence.    Ah  !  said  he,  so  am  I,  it  is 
in  my  circuit.     The  word  circuit  sounded  so  professional, 
[  looked  again  at  him,  to  ascertain  whether  I  had  ever  seen 
him  before,  or  whether  i  had  met  w'ith  one  of  those  name- 
less, but  innumerable  limbs  of  the  law,  who  now  flourish 
in  every  district  of  the  Province.     There  was  a  keenness 
about  his  eye,  and  an  acuteness  of  expression,  much  in 
favour  of  the  law ;  but  the  dress,  and  general  bearing  of 
the  man,  made  against  the  supposition.     His  was  not  the 
coat  of  a  man  who  can  afibrd  to  wear  an  old  coat,  nor  was 
it  one  of  *  Tempests  and  More**,*  that  distinguish  country 
lawyers  from  country  boobies.   His  clothes  were  well  made, 
and  of  good  materials,  but  looked  as  if  their  owner  had 
shrunk  a  little  sinoe  they  were  made  for  him  ;  they  hung 
somewhat  loose  on  him.    A  large  brooch,  and  some  su« 
perfluous   seals    and  gold  keys,  which  ornamented  his 
outward  man,  looked  *  New  England*  like.     A  visit  to  the 
States  had,  perhaps,  I  thought,  turned  this  Colchester  beau 
into  a  Yankee  fop.    Of  what  consequence  was  it  to  me 
who  he  was — in  either  case  I  had  nothmg  to  do  with  him, 
and  I  desired  neither  his  acquaintance  nor  his  company— 
still  I  could  not  but  ask  myself  who  can  this  man  be  t    I 
am  not  aware,  said  I,  that  there  is  a  court  sitting  at  this 
time  at  Cumberland  ?    Nor  am  I,  said  my  friend.     What 
then  could  he  have  to  do  with  the  circuit  t    It  occurred  to 
me  he  must  be  a  Methodist  preacher.    I  looked  again,  but 
his  appearance  again  puzzled  me.     His  attire  might  do— 
the  colour  might  be  suitable — the  broad  brim  not  out  of 
place ;  but  there  was  a  want  of  that  staidness  of  look,  that 
seriousness  of  countenance,  that  expression,  in  short}  so 
characteristic  of  the  clergy. 

I  could  not  account  for  my  idle  curiosity — a  curiosity 
which,  in  him,  I  had  the  moment  before  viewed  both  with 
suspicion  and  disgust ;  but  so  it  was — I  felt  a  desire  to  know 
who  he  could  be  who  was  neither  lawyer  nor  preacher,  an 
yet  talked  of  his  circuit  with  the  gravity  of  both.  How 
ridiculous,  I  thought  to  myself,  is  this ;  I  will  leave  him. 
Turning  towards  him,  I  said,  I  feared  I  should  be  late  for 
breakfast,  and  must  therefore  bid  him  good  morning.  Mo- 
liawk  felt  the  pressure  of  mv  knees,  and  away  we  went  at 


.•■aJ;^- 


THB  TROTTIWO    HORSE. 


13 


isitive  com- 
>  am  I,  it  is 
>rofessional, 
d  ever  seen 
dose  name- 
low  flourish 
a  keenness 
i»  much  in 
bearing  of 
vas  not  the 
Lt,  nor  was 
sh  country 
well  made, 
3wner  had 
they  hung 
some  su. 
lented  his 
i^isit  to  the 
Jster  beau 
I  it  to  me 
with  him, 
)nipany— 
in  be?    I 
ng  at  this 
1.     What 
curred  to 
gain,  but 
ight  do — 
ot  out  of 
ook,  that 
short,  so 

curiosity 
oth  with 
to  know 
her,  an 
How 
ive  him. 
lale  for 
:.  Mo- 
went  at 


■r'fiia 


a  slapping  pace.  I  congratulated  myself  on  conquering 
my  own  curiosity,  and  on  avoiding  that  of  my  travelling 
companion.  This,  I  said  to  myself,  this  is  the  value  of  c 
goo^  horse ;  I  patted  his  neck — I  felt  proud  of  him.  Pre- 
sently 1  heard  the  steps  of  the  unknown's  horse— the 
clatter  increased.  Ah,  my  friend,  thought  I,  it  won't  do{ 
you  should  be  well  mounted  if  you  desire  my  company ;  [ 
pushed  Mohawk  faster,  faster,  faster — to  his  best.  He  out- 
did himself;  he  had  never  trotted  so  handsomely — so  easily 
---so  well. '*   '''*'''^  ■  '"^*v^'^'«i^^*^^ 

I  guess  that  is  a  pretty  considerable  smart  horse,  said 
the  strang(*r,  as  he  came  beside  me,  and  apparently  reined 
in  to  prevent  his  horse  passing  me  j  there  is  not,  I  reckon, 
so  spry  a  one  on  my  circuit.        i^*«*iHi'*>Hi  i^^ilvyS 

Circuity  or  no  eirctiity  one  thing  was  settled  in  my 
mind ;  he  was  a  Yankee,  and  a  very  impertinent  Yankee 
too.  I  felt  humbled,  my  pride  was  hurt,  and  Mohawk 
was  beaten.  To  continue  this  trotting  contest  was  humi- 
liating ;  I  yielded,  therefore,  before  the  victory  was  palpa- 
ble, and  pulled  up. 

Yes,  continued  he,  a  horse  of  pretty  considerable  good 
action,  and  a  pretty  fair  trotter,  too,  I  guess.  Pride  must 
have  a  fall — I  confess  mine  was  prostrate  in  tlie  dust. 
These  words  cut  me  to  the  heart.  What !  is  it  come  tft 
this,  poor  Mohawk,  that  you,  the  admiration  of  all  but  the 
envious,  the  great  Mohawk,  the  standard  by  which  all  other 
horses  are  measured — trots  next  to  Mohawk,  only  yields  to 
Mohawk,  looks  like  Mohawk — that  you  are,  after  all,  only 
a  counterfeit,  and  pronounced  by  a  straggling  Yankee  to  be 
merely  *  a  pretty  fair  trotter !' 

If  he  was  trained,  I  guess  that  he  might  be  made  do  a 
little  more.  Excuse  me,  but  if  you  divide  your  weight 
between  the  knee  and  the  stirrup,  rather  most  on  the  knee, 
and  rise  forward  on  the  saddle  so  as  to  leave  a  little  day- 
light between  you  and  it,  I  hope  I  may  never  ride  this 
circuit  again,  if  you  don't  get  a  mile  more  an  hour  out 

of  him.  i' ;';..■-    ...  .......i;  p   ;i»--.,-'  ,,..;..>-  ^■a^^^'ijr*^  f^.^^-r^n'^.^  ' 

What !  not  enough,  I  mentally  groaned,  to  have  my 
horse  beaten,  but  I  must  be  told  that  I  don't  know  how  to 


nne 


ir\t\       V»V 


If,     i.vrvr. 


JL  CH.jn.OC7- 


'^» 


4.\ 1. 


IIR? 


him;  and  that, 
rub— a  Yankee  what?    Perhaps  a  half-bred  puppy,  half 
2 


14 


THE   CLOCKMAKEIU 


fc  ,  !,!ij 


Yankoo,  half  blue*nose.  As  there  is  no  escape,  FII  try  to 
make  out  my  riding  master.  Your  circuity  said  I,  my 
looks  expressing  all  the  surprise  they  were  capable  of-~ 
your  circuit,  pray  what  may  that  be?  Oh,  said  he,  the 
ea9tern  circuit — I  am  on  the  eastern  circuit,  sir.  I  have 
beard,  said  I,  feeling  that  I  now  had  a  lawyer  to  deal  with, 
that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  business  on  this  circuit — Pray, 
are  there  many  cases  of  importance?  There  is  a  pretty 
fair  business  to  be  done,  at  least  there  has  been,  but  the 
cases  are  of  no  great  value — we  do  not  make  much  out  of 
them,  we  get  them  up  very  easy,  but  they  donU  bring 
much  profit.  What  a  beast,  thought  I,  is  this ;  and  what 
a  curse  to  a  country,  to  have  such  an  unfeeling,  petti 
fogging  rascal  practising  in  it — a  horse-jockey,  too — what 
a  finished  character !  I'll  try  him  on  that  branch  of  his 
business. 

That  is  a  superior  animal  you  are  mounted  on,  said  I— • 
\  seldom  meet  one  that  can  travel  with  mine.  Yes,  said  be 
coolly,  a  considerable  fair  traveller,  and  most  particular 
good  bottoih.  I  hesitated ;  this  man  who  talks  with  such 
unblushing  effrontery  of  getting  up  cases,  and  making  pro- 
fit  out  of  them,  cannot  be  offended  at  the  question — yes,  1 
will  put  it  to  him.  Do  you  feel  an  inclination  to  part  with 
him  ?  I  never  part  with  a  horse,  sir,  that  suits  me,  said  he 
— I  am  fond  of  a  horse— I  don't  like  to  ride  in  the  dust  afler 
every  one  I  meet,  and  I  allow  no  mian  to  pass  me  but  when 
I  choose.  Is  it  possible,  I  thought,  that  he  can  know  me ; 
that  he  has  beard  of  my  foible,  and  is  quizzing  me,  or  have 
I  this  feeling  in  common  with  him  ?  But,  continued  I,  you 
might  supply  yourself  again.  Not  on  this  circuit j  I  guess, 
said  he,  nor  yet  in  Campbell's  circuit.  Campbell's  circuit — 

Eray,  sir,  what  is  that  ?  That,  said  he,  is  the  western — and 
lampton  rides  the  shore  circuit  ■,  and  as  for  the  people  on 
the  shore,  they  know  so  little  of  horses,  that  Lampton  tells 
me,  a  man  from  Aylesford  once  sold  a  hornless  ox  there, 
whose  tail  he  had  cut  and  nicked,  for  a  horse  of  the  Goliath 
breed.  I  should  think,  said  I,  that  Mr.  Lampton  must  have 
no  lack  of  cases  among  such  enlightened  clients.  Clients, 
sir !  said  my  friend,  Mr.  Lampton  is  not  a  lawyer.  1  beg 
pardon,  I  thought  you  said  he  rode  the  circuit.  We  call  it 
a  circuit,  said  the  stranger,  who  seemed  by  no  means  fiat- 


M 


'amMm 


ItliHIWni 


mmtmtmmmDt 


\fTs«rr 


THTfi  GLOGKMARiSR. 


15 


tcrcd  by  the  mintake — wo  divide  the  Province,  ns  in  ihc  Al- 
manack, into  circuits,  in  cnch  of  which  we  separately  cairy 
on  our  business  of  manufacturing  and  selling  clocks.  There 
are  few,  I  guess,  said  the  Clockmaker,  who  go  upon  tick 
as  much  as  we  do,  who  have  so  little  use  for  lawyers ;  if 
attorneys  could  wind  a  man  vp  again^  afler  he  has  been 
fairly  run  down,  I  guess  they  *d  be  a  pretty  harmless  sor 
of  folks. 

This  explanation  restored  my  good  humour,  and  as  1 
could  not  quit  my  companion,  and  he  did  not  feel  disposed 
to  leave  me,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  travel  with  him  to  Port 
Lawrence,  the  limit  of  Am  circuit. 


«i».v 


„(.«<«:  f,-.  •;.-    «,*?fc|- 


• ,  ^''v.f  .;-.■*;  .  : : 

]:^<..\rni<^^';.:'-vV-  CHAPTER  II.    .  ■••'^5'^4^  •  J 

,v;l  ;■•''/?y•^^^/^V/■'■    THE  CLOCKMAKER.    ' 

I  HAD  heard  of  Yankee  clock  pedlars,  tin  pedlars,  and 
bible  pedlars,  especially  of  him  who  sold  Polyglot  Bibles 
Call  in  English)  to  the  amount  of  sixteen  thousand  pounds 
The  house  of  every  substantial  farmer  had  three  substantia' 
ornaments,  a  wooden  clock,  a  tin  reflector,  and  a  Polyglot 
Bible.  How  is  it  that  an  American  can  sell  his  wares,  at 
whatever  price  he  pleases,  where  a  blue-nose  would  fail  to 
make  a  sale  at  all  ?  I  will  inquire  of  the  Clockmaker  the 
secret  of  his  success,  -x'k  Sx  l-xfi?.  ^^i^ii  *ftrW3?j*;^^"  t^ 

What  a  pity  it  is,  Mr.  Slide,  (for  such  was  his  name) 
what  a  pity  it  is,  said  I,  that  you,  who  are  so  successful  in 
teaching  these  people  the  value  of  clocks,  could  not  also 
teach  them  the  value  of  time.    I  guess,  said  he,  they  have 
got  that  ring  to  grow  on  their  horns  yet,  which  every  fiSur 
year  old  has  in  our  country.    We  reckon  hours  and  minutes 
to  be  dollars  and  cents.     They  do  nothing  in  these  parts 
but  oat,  drink,  smoke,  sleep,  ride  about,  lounge,  at  taverns 
make  speeches  at  temperance  meetings,  and  talk  abou 
*'  House  of  Assembly."     If  a  man  don't  hoe  his  corn,  an 
he  uouH  hoe  a  crop,  he  says  it  is  all  owing  to  the  Bank 


■  U-- 


'  '^•^  '.'Tt^  :'  ^JSel^' 


♦i? 


Id 


THE   CLOCKMAKEIU 


u. 


if  nins  into  doht  and  is  suod,  why  he  says  the  law- 
yers arc  ,t  irsu  to  the  country.  They  are  a  most  idle  set 
of  folks,  I  tell  you. 

But  how  is  it,  said  I,  that  you  manage  to  sell  such  an 
immense  numlx  r  of  clocks,  (which  certainly  cannot  bo 
cuilod  ncce.sitary  articles)  among  a  people  with  whom  there 
btriTja  to  Iw  so  great  a  scorci.y  of  money? 

Mr.  Slick  paused,  as  if  considering  the  propriety  of  an 
sweriug  thu  (]ucstion,  and  looking  me  in  the  face,  said,  in  a 
confidential  tone,  Why,  I  don't  care  if  I  do  tell  you,  for  tlie 
market  is  glutted,  and  I  shall  quit  this  circuit.  It  is  done 
by  u  knowledge  oCaoft  aawdtr  and  hufnan  natur.  But  here 
is  Deacon  Flint's,  said  he,  I  have  but  one  clock  led,  and  1 
guess  I  will  sell  it  to  him. 

At  the  gate  of  a  most  comfortable  looking  farm  housn 
stood  Deacon  Flint,  a  respectable  old  man,  who  had  under- 
stood the  value  of  time  better  than  most  of  his  neighbours, 
if  one  might  judge  from  the  appearance  of  every  thing 
about  him.  Ader  the  usual  salutation,  an  invitation  to 
*'  alight''  was  accepted  by  Mr.  Slick,  who  said,  he  wished  to 
take  leave  of  Mrs.  Flint  before  he  left  Colchester. 

Wo  had  hardly  entered  the  house,  before  the  Clockmaker 
pointed  to  the  view  from  the  window,  and,  addressing  him« 
self  to  me,  said,  if  I  was  to  m  li  them  in  Connecticut,  ther^ 
was  such  a  farm  as  this  away  do^vn  east  here  in  Nova  Sco- 
tia, they  wouldn't  believe  me — why  there  aint  such  a  location 
in  all  New  England.  The  deacon  has  a  hundred  acres  of 
dyke — Seventy,  said  the  deacon,  only  seventy.  Well, 
seventy ;  but  then  there  is  your  fine  deep  bottom,  why  1 
could  run  a  ramrod  into  it — Interval,  we  call  it,  said  the 
Deacon,  who,  though  evidently  pleased  at  this  eulogium, 
sewed  to  wish  the  experiment  of  the  ramrod  to  be  tried  in 
the  right  place — Well,  interval  if  you  please,  (thi 'gh  Pro- 
fessor Eleazar  Cumstick,  in  his  work  on  Ohio,  <id!(s  the**! 
bottoms,)  is  just  as  good  as  dyke.  Then  there  i .  !Vj<.**.  \.'h.  ;r 
privilege,  worth  3,000  or  4,000  dollars,  twice  hm  good  as 
what  Governor  Cass  paid  15,000  dollars  for.  I  wonder. 
Deacon,  you  ^on't  put  up  a  carding  mill  on  it :  the  same 
woik«  '^^/ould  carry  a  turning  lathe,  a  shingle  machine,  a 

circular    5«w,  grind   bark,  and  .     Too  old,  siiid  the 

Deacon,  i..    SiA  fcr  all  those  speculations — Old,  repealed  ♦he 


THE   CLOCnMAKCR.  .      .If 

Clockmakcr,  not  you ;  why  yn  arc  ^vorth  half  a  dozen  of 
the  young  men  wo  see  no\v.a-<  ij,  ;  you  art  young  enough 
to  have — here  he  said  somcfhmg  in  u  lower  tone  of  voicOf 
which  I  did  not  dislinctly  In  ir;  but  whatever  it  was,  tho 
Deacon  was  pleased,  he  smiled  and  said  ho  did  not  think 
of  such  things  now. 

But  your  beasts,  dear  me,  your  beasts  must  be  put  in  and 
have  a  feed ;  saying  which,  ho  went  out  to  order  th<?m  to 
be    'k\.  1  to  the  stable. 

,'  tV ^  old  gentleman  closed  the  door  aAer  him,  Mr.  Slick 
(Ircw  iicar  to  me,  and  said  in  an  under  tone,  that  is  what  I 
r.'iM  "m/t  sawder."  An  Englishman  would  pass  that  nmn 
a£  a  sheep  passes  a  hog  in  a  pasture,  without  looking  at  him ; 


or,  said 


he,  looking  rather  archly,  if 
mart  horse,  I  guess  he  d  tr 


he  was  mounted  on  a 


f"- 


pretty  smart  horse,  I  guess  he'd  trot  away,  if  he-  could. 
Now  I  find — Here  his  lecture  on  "  soft  sawder"  was  cut 
short  by  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Flint.  Jist  come  to  say  goc ' 
bye,  Mrs,  Flint.  What,  have  you  sold  all  your  clocks 
Yes,  and  very  low,  too,  for  money  is  scarce,  and  I  wished 
to  close  the  concarn ;  no,  I  am  wrong  in  saying  all,  for  I 
have  just  one  lefl.  Neighbor  SteeKs  wife  asked  to  have 
the  refusal  of  it,  but  I  guess  I  won*t  sell  it ;  I  had  but  two 
of  them,  this  one  and  the  feller  of  it,  that  I  sold  Governor 
Lincoln.  General  Green,  the  Secretary  of  State  for  Maine 
said  he'd  give  me  60  dollars  for  this  here  one— it  has  com- 
position  wheels  and  patent  axles,  it  is  a  beautiful  article — a 
real  first  chop — no  mistake,  genuine  superfine,  but  I  guess 
ril  take  it  back;  and  beside.  Squire  Hawk  might  think 
kinder  harder,  that  I  did  not  give  him  the  ofler.  Dear  me 
said  Mrs.  Flint,  I  should  like  to  see  it,  where  is  it  ?  It  is  in 
a  chest  of  mine  over  the  way,  at  Tom  Tape's  store,  I  guess 
he  can  ship  it  on  to  Eastport.  That's  a  good  man,  said 
Mrs.  Flint,  jist  let's  look  at  it.  .  ^^,»»i^j§ 

Mr.  Slick,  willing  to  oblige,  yielded  to  these  entreaties 
and  soon  produced  the  clock,  a  gawdy,  highly  varnished, 
trumpery  looking  affair.  He  placed  it  on  the  chimney 
piece,  where  its  beauties  werie  pointed  out  and  duly  appre- 
ciated by  Mrs.  Flint,  whose  admiration  was  about  ending 
in  a  proposal,  when  Mr.  Flint  returned  from  giving  his 
directions  about  the  care  of  the  horses.  The  Deacon 
praised  the  '^lock,  he  too  thought  it  a  handsome  one:  but 


•i-i^'. 


18 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


the  Deacon  was  a  prudent  man,  he  had  a  watch — -he  was 
sorry,  but  he  had  no  occasion  for  a  clock.  I  guess  you^re 
in  the  wrong  furrow  this  time,  Deacon,  it  aint  for  sale, 
said  Mr.  Slick ;  and  if  it  was,  I  reckon  neighbour  Sffeel's 
wife  would  have  it,  for  she  gives  me  no  peace  about  it. 
Mrs.  Flint  said,  that  Mr.  Steel  had  enough  to  do,  poor  man, 
to  pay  his  interest,  without  buying  clocks  Ibr  his  wife.  It's 
no  concarn  of  mine,  said  Mr.  Slick,  as  long  as  he  pays  me, 
what  he  has  to  do,  but  I  guess  I  don't  want  to  sell  it,  and 
besides  it  comes  too  high ;  that  clock  can't  be  made  at 
Rhode  Island  under  40  dollars.  Why  it  ain't  possible,  said 
the  Clockmaker,  in  apparent  surprise,  looking  at  his  watch, 
why  as  I'm  alive  it  is  4  o'clock,  and  if  I  hav'nt  been  two 
hours  here — how  on  airth  shall  I  reach  River. Philip  to-night] 
I'll  tell  you  what,  Mrs.  Flint,  I'll  leave  the  clock  in  your 
tare  till  I  return  on  my  way  to  the  States — I'll  set  it  a  going 
and  put  it  to  the  right  time. 

As  soon  as  this  operation  was  performed,  he  delivered 
the  key  to  the  Deacon  with  a  sort  of  serio-comic  injunction 
to  wind  up*  the  clock  every  Saturday  night,  which  Mrs. 
Flint  said  she  would  take  care  should  be  done,  and  pro- 
mised to  remind  her  husband  of  it,  in  case  he  should  chance 
to  forget  it. 

'  -'  That,  said  the  Clockmaker,  as  soon  as  we  were  mounted, 
that  I  call  *  human  natur  /'  Now  that  clock  is  sold  for  40 
dollars — it  cost  me  just  6  dollars  and  50  cents.  Mrs.  Flint 
will  never  let  Mrs.  Steel  have  the  refusal — nor  will  the 
Deacon  learn  until  I  call  for  the  clock,  that  having  once 
indulged  in  the  use  of  a  superfluity,  how  difficult  it  is  to 
give  it  up.  We  can  do  without  any  article  of  luxury  we 
have  never  had,  but  when  once  obtained,  it  is  not  *  in  hu- 
man natur'  to  surrender  it  voluntarily.  Of  fifteen  thousand 
sold  by  myself  and  partners  in  this  Province,  twelve  thou- 
sand were  left  in  this  manner,  and  only  ten  clocks  were 
ever  returned — when  we  called  for  them,  they  invariably 
twughl  them.  We  trust  to  *  soft  sawde;'  to  get  them  into 
the  house,  and  to  '  human  natur*  that  they  never  eome 
out  of  it. 


■   7*if  • 


TUB  SILBNT  GIRLS. 


\<t 

'::.  'i'-'- 

■-■■^ 

:<--4 

'f  •'■•■'  ■ 

>?/2' 

,r& 

\  t-* 

•  ■-■■v 

^., 

'■ '  1-- 

.%?. 

^y^ 

'•  ^ 

CHAPTER  III. 


X 


THE  SILENT  GIRL& 


,'.-,-iS•'i^ 


Do  you  sc?e  them  ore  swallows,  said  the  Clockmaker 
now  low  they  fly  ?  Well,  I  presume,  we  shall  have  rain 
right  away,  and  them  noisy  critters,  them  gulls,  how  close 
they  keep  to  the  water,  down  there  in  the  Shubenacadie , 
well  that's  a  sure  sign.  If  we  study  natur,  we  don't  want 
no  thermometer.  But  I  guess  we  shall  be  in  time  to  get 
under  cover  in  a  shingle-maker's  shed,  about  three  miles 
ahead  on  us. 

We  had  just  reached  the  deserted  hovel  when  the  rain 
fell  in  torrents. 

I  reckon,  said  the  clockmaker,  as  he  sat  himself  down 
on  a  buir^^e  of  shingles,  I  reckon  they  are  bad  oflT  for  inns 
in  this  country.  When  a  feller  is  too  lazy  to  work  here,  he 
paints  hiis  name  over  his  door,  and  calls  it  a  tavern,  and  as 
like  as  not  he  makes  the  whole  neighbourhood  as  lazy  as 
himself — it  is  about  as  easy  to  find  a  good  inn  in  Halifax 
as  it  is  to  jBnd  wool  on  a  goat's  back.  An  inn,  to  be  a  good 
concarn,  must  be  built  a  purpose,  you  can  no  more  make  a 
good  tavern  out  of  a  common  dwelling-house,  1  expect,  than 
a  good  coat  out  of  an  old  pair  of  trowsers.  They  are 
eternal  lazy,  you  may  depend — now  there  might  be  a 
grand  spec  made  there  in  building  a  good  Inn  and  a  good 
Church.  What  a  sacrilegious  and  unnatural  union,  said  I, 
with  most  unaffected  surprise.  Not  at  all,  said  Mr.  Slick, 
we  build  both  on  speculation  in  the  States,  and  make  a 
good  deal  of  profit  out  of  'em  too,  I  tell  you.  We  look  out 
a  good  sightly  place  in  a  town  like  Halifax,  that  is  pretty 
i;onsiderably  well  peopled,  with  folks  that  are  good  marks  ; 
and  if  there  is  no  real  right  down  good  preacher  among 
them,  we  build  a  handsome  Church,  touched  off  like  a  New 
York  liner,  a  real  taking  looking  thing — and  then  we  look 
out  for  a  preacher,  a  crack  man,  a  regular  ten  horse  power 
chap — well  we  hire  him,  and  we  have  to  give  pretty  high 
wages  too,  say  twelve  hundred  or  sixteen  hundred  dollars 
a  year.    We  take  him  at  first  on  trial  for  a  Sabbath  or 


\ 


2D 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


ft" 


.    ,i 


two,  to  try  liis  paces,  and  if  he  takes  with  the  folks,  if  ho 
goes  down  well,  we  clinch  the  bargain  and  let  and  sell  the 
pews ;  and,  I  tell  you,  it  pays  well  and  makes  a  real  good 
investment.  There  were  few  better  specs  among  us  tjian 
Inns  and  Churches,  until  the  Railroads  came  on  the  carpet : 
as  soon  as  the  novelty  of  the  new  preacher  wears  off,  we 
hire  another,  and  that  keeps  up  the  steam.  I  trust  it  will 
be  long,  very  long,  my  friend,  said  I,  ere  the  rage  for 
speculation  introduces  **  the  money  changers  into  the  tem- 
ple," with  us. 

Mr.  Slick  looked  at  me  with  a  most  ineffable  expression 
of  pity  and  surprise.  Depend  on  it,  sir,  said  he,  with  a 
most  philosophical  air,  this  Province  is  much  behind  the 
Intelligence  of  the  age.  But  if  it  is  behind  us  in  that  re« 
spect,  it  is  a  long  chalk  ahead  on  us  in  others.  I  never 
seed  or  heard  tell  of  a  country  that  had  so  many  natural 
privileges  as  this.  Why  there  are  twice  as  many  har- 
bours and  water  powers  here,  as  we  have  all  the  way  from 
Eastport  to  New  Orleens.  They  have  all  they  can  ax,  and 
more  than  they  desarve.  They  have  iron,  coal,  slate, 
grindstone,  lime,  fire-stone,  gypsum,  freestone,  and  a  list 
as  long  as  an  auctioneer's  catalogue.  But  they  are  either 
asleep,  or  stone  blind  to  them.  Their  shores  are  crowded 
with  fish,  and  their  lands  covered  with  wood.  A  govern- 
ment that  lays  as  light  on  'em  as  a  down  counterpin,  and 
no  taxes.  Then  look  at  their  dykes.  The  Lord  seems  to 
have  made  'em  on  purpose  for  such  lazy  folks.  If  you 
were  to  tell  the  citizens  of  our  country  that  these  dykes  had 
been  cropped  for  a  hundred  years  without  manure,  they'd 
say,  they  guessed  you  had  seen  Colonel  Crockett,  the  great- 
est hand  at  a  flam  in  our  nation.  You  have  heerd  tell  of  a 
man  who  couldn't  see  London  for  the  houses,  I  tell  you  if 
we  had  this  country,  you,  could'nt  see  the  harbours  for  the 
shipping.  There'd  be  a  rush  of  folks  to  it,  as  there  is  in  one 
of  our  inns,  to  the  dinner  table,  when  they  sometimes  get 
jammed  together  in  the  door-way,  and  a  man  has  to  take  a 
running  leap  over  their  heads,  afore  he  can  get  in.  A  little 
nigger  boy  in  New  York  found  a  diamond  worth  2,000 
dollars ;  well,  he  sold  it  to  a  watchmaker  for  50  cents — the 
little  critter  did'nt  know  no  better.     Yovr  people  arc  just 


^^■^  = 


^mw^ 


THE   SILBNT   GIRLS. 


91 


like  the  nigger  hoy,  they  don't  know  the  value  of  iSeir 
diamond. 

Do  you  know  the  reason  monkeys  are  no  good  ?  because 
they  chatter  ail  day  long — so  do  the  niggers — and  so  do 
the  blue  noses  of  Nova  Scotia — it's  all  talk  and  no  work ;  now 
with  us  its  all  work  and  no  talk ;  in  our  ship-yards,  our  fac- 
tories, our  mills,  and  even  in  our  vessels,  there's  no  talk — a 
man  can't  work  and  talk  too.  I  guess  if  you  were  at  the  fac- 
tories at  Lowell  we'd  show  you  a  wonder — five  hundred 
galls  at  work  together  all  in  silence.  I  don't  think  our 
great  country  has  such  a  real  natural  curiosity  as  that — I 
expect  the  world  don't  contain  the  beat  of  thatj  for  a 
woman's  tongue  goes  so  slick  of  itself,  without  water  power 
or  steam,  and  moves  so  easy  on  its  hinges,  that  it's  no  easy 
matter  to  put  a  spring  stop  on  it,  I  tell  you — It  comes  an 
natural  as  drinkin  mint  julip. 

I  don't  pretend  to  say  the  galls  don't  nullify  the  rule 
at  intermission  and  arter  hours,  but  when  they  do,  if  they 
don't  let  go,  then  its  a  pity.  You  have  heerd  a  school 
come  out,  of  little  boys.  Lord,  its  no  touch  to  it ;  or  a  fl(K:k 
of  geese  at  it,  they  are  no  more  a  match  for  'em  than  a 
pony  is  for  a  coach-horse.  But  when  they  are  at  work 
all's  as  still  as  sleep  and  no  snoring.  I  guess  we  have  a, 
right  to  brag  o'  that  invention — we  trained  the  dear  critters, 
so  they  donH  think  of  striking  the  minutes  and  seconds  no 
longer.  t    At^Vv-^r  ■^  -^-f 

Now  the  folks  of  Halifax  take  it  all  out  in  talking — they 
talk  of  steam-boa*s,  whalers,  and  rail-roads — but  they  afl 
end  where  they  begin — in  talk.  I  don't  think  I'd  be  out  in 
my  latitude,  if  I  was  to  say  they  beat  the  women  kind  at 
that.  One  fellow  says,  I  talk  of  going  to  England — another 
says,  I  talk  of  going  to  the  country — while  a  third  says,  I 
talk  of  going  to  sleep.  If  we  happen  to  speak  of  such 
things,  we  say,  *  I'm  right  off  down  East ;  or  I'm  away  ofl 
South,'  and  away  we  go  jist  like  a  streak  of  lightning. 

When  we  want  folks  to  talk,  v/e  pay  'em  for  it,  such  as 
our  ministers,  lawyers,  and  members  of  congress ;  but  then 
we  expect  the  use  of  their  tongues,  and  not  their  hands ; 
and  when  we  pay  folks  to  work,  we  expect  the  use  of  their  i 
hands,  and  not  their  tongues.     I  guess  work  don't  come ' 
kind  o'  natural  to  the  people  of  this  Province,  no  more  than  it  (' 


imi0if^- 


22 


TUB   CLOCKMAKER. 


rV 


:.l 


*"•: 


does  to  a  full  bred  horse.  1  expect  they  think  they  have  a 
little  too  much  blood  in  'em  for  work,  for  they  are  near 
about  as  proud  as  they  are  lazy. 

Now  the  bees  know  how  to  sarve  out  such  chaps,  for 
they  have  their  drones  too.  Well,  they  reckon  its  no  fun, 
a  making  honey  all  summer  for  these  idle  critters  to  eat  all 
winter — so  they  give  'em  Lynch  Law.  They  have  a  regu- 
lar built  mob  of  citizens,  and  string  up  the  drones  like  the 
Vixburg  gamblers.  Their  maxim  is,  and  not  a  bad  one 
neither,  I  guess,  *  no  work  no  honey.* 


nrf; 


.■^\:  .jrvV- 


iw' 
5*^^ 


?T-    irX-'    A^.-i'l 


CHAPTER  IV. 


!•;'•?* i**.'  ■^•v'.''    -^''-^ '' X'f:\i- 

'  .  .'■  ..  "-Ti   ■»i'\  }:.'  ';'y^f\ 


„v.;t,»r , 


■■'"^r*' 


CONVERSATIONS  AT  THE  RIVER  PmUP. 


w: 


Tt  was  fate  before  we  arrived  at  Pugnose's  Inn — -the 
evening  was  cool,  and  a  fire  was  cheering  and  comfortable. 
Mr.  fcllick  declined  any  share  in  the  bottle  of  wine,  he  said 
ho  was  dyspeptic ;  and  a  glass  or  two  soon  convinced  me, 
that  it  was  likely  to  produce  in  me  something  worse  than 
dyspepsy.  It  was  speedily  removed,  and  we  drew  up  to 
the  fire. 

Taking  a  small  penknife  from  his  pocket,  he  began  to 
whittle  a  thin  piece  of  dry  wood,  which  lay  on  the  hearth  ; 
and,  after  musing  some  time,  said,  I  guess  you've  never 
been  in  the  States.  I  replied  that  I  had  not,  but  that  before 
I  returned  to  England  I  proposed  visiting  that  country. 
There,  said  he,  you'll  see  the  great  Daniel  Webster — he's 
a  great  man,  I  tell  you  ;  King  William,  number  4,  I  guess, 
would  be  no  match  for  him  as  an  orator — he'd  talk  him  out 
of  sight  in  half  an  hour.  If  he  was  in  your  House  of  Com- 
mons, I  reckon  he'd  make  some  of  your  great  folks  look 
pretty  streaked — he's  a  true  patriot  and  statesman,  the  first 
in  our  country,  and  a  most  particular  cute  Lawyer.  There 
was  a  Quaker  chap  too  cute  for  him  once  tho'.  This 
Quaker,  a  pretty  knowin'  old  shaver,  had  a  cause  down  to 
Rhode  Island  ;  so  he  went  to  Daniel  to  hire  him  to  go  down 
and  plead  his  case  for  b-im;  so  says  he,  Lawyer  Webster, 


CONVERSATIONS  AT   THB   RIVER   PHILIP. 


S3 


what's  your  fee  ?  Why,  says  Daniel,  let  me  see,  I  have  to 
go  down  South  to  Washington,  to  plead  the  great  insurance 
case  of  the  Hartford  Company — and  I've  got  to  be  at  Cin- 
cinnati to  attend  the  Convention,  and  I  don't  see  how  I  can 
go  to  Rhode  Island  without  great  loss  and  great  fatigue ;  it 
would  cost  you  may  be  more  than  you'd  be  willing  to  give. 

Well,  the  Quaker  looked  pretty  white  about  the  gills,  I 
tell  you,  when  he  heard  this,  for  he  could  not  do  without 
him  no  how,  and  he  did  not  like  this  preliminary  talk  of  his 
at  all — at  last  he  made  bold  to  ask  him  the  worst  of  it, 
what  he  would  take  ?  Why,  says  Daniel,  I  always  liked 
the  Quakers,  they  are  a  quiet  peaceable  people,  who  never 
go  to  law  if  they  can  help  it,  and  it  would  be  better  for  our 
great  country  if  there  were  more  such  people  in  it.  I  never 
seed  or  heerd  tell  of  any  harm  in  'em  except  going  the 
whole  figure  for  Gineral  Jackson,  and  that  everlastin 
almighty  villain,  Van  Buren ;  yes,  I  love  the  Quakers,  I  hope 
they'll  go  the  Webster  ticket  yet — and  I'll  go  for  you  as 
low  as  I  can  any  way  afford,  say  1,000  dollars. 

The  Quaker  well  nigh  fainted  when  he  heerd  this,  but  he 
was  pretty  deep  too;  so  says  he,  Lawyer,  that's  a  great  deal 
of  money,  but  I  have  more  causes  there,  if  I  give  you  the 
1,000  dollars  will  you  plead  the  other  cases  I  shall  have  to 
give  you  ?  Yes,  says  Daniel,  I  will  to  the  best  of  my  humble 
abilities.  So  down  they  went  to  Rhode  Island,  and  Daniel 
tried  the  case,  and  carried  it  for  the  Quaker.  Well,  the 
Quaker  he  goes  round  to  all  the  folks  that  had  suits  in 
court,  and  says  he,  what  will  you  give  me  if  I  get  the  great 
Daniel  to  plead  for  you?  It  cost  me  1,000  dollars  for  a 
fee,  but  now  he  and  1  are  pretty  thick,  and  as  he  is  on  the 
spot,  I'd  get  him  to  plead  cheap  for  you — so  he  got  three 
hundred  dollars  from  one,  and  two  from  another,  and  so 
on,  until  he  got  eleven  hundred  dollars,  jist  one  hundred 
dollars  more  than  he  gave.  Daniel  was  in  a  great  rage 
when  he  heerd  this ;  what,  said  he,  do  you  think  I  would  agree 
to  your  letting  me  out  like  a  horse  to  hire  ?  Friend  Daniel, 
said  the  Quaker,  didst  thou  not  undertake  to  plead  all  such 
cases  as  I  should  have  to  give  thee  1  If  thou  wilt  not  stand 
to  thy  agreement,  neither  will  I  stand  to  mine.  Daniel 
laughed  out  ready  to  split  his  sides  at  this.  Well,  says  he 
i  guess  I  might  as  well  stand  still  for  you  to  put  the  bridle 


t4 


THE  OLOOKMAKBR. 


V  ! 


on  this  time,  for  you  have  fairly  pinned  me  up  in  a  corner 
of  the  fence  any  how — so  he  went  good  humouredly  to 
work  and  pleaded  them  all. 

This  lazy  fellow,  Pusnose,  continued  the  Clockmaker, 
that  keeps  this  inn,  is  gomg  to  sell  off  and  go  to  the  States ; 
he  says  he  has  to  work  too  hard  here ;  that  the  markets 
are  dull,  and  the  winters  too  long ;  and  he  guesses  he  can 
live  easier  there;  I  guess  he'll  find  his  mistake  afore  he  has 

•^  l>een  there  long.  Why  our  country  aint  to  be  compared  to 
this,  on  no  account  whatever ;  our  country  never  made  us 
to  be  the  great  nation  we  are,  but  we  made  the  counti»y. 

i         How  on  airth  could  we,  if  we  were  all  like  old  Pugnose,  as 

%        lazy,  as  ugly,  make  that  cold  thin  soil  of  New  England  pro- 
duce what  it  does  ?     Why,  Sir,  the  land  between  Boston 
and  Salem  would  starve  a  flock  of  geese ;  and  yet  look  at 
Salem,  it  has  more  cash  than  would  buy  Nova  Scotia  from 
,j       the  King.     We  rise  early,  live  frugally,  and  work  late : 

'  what  we  get  we  take  care  of.   To  all  this  we  add  enterprise 

and  intelligence — a  feller  who  finds  work  too  hard  here,  had 
better  not  go  to  the  States.  I  met  an  Irishman,  one  Pat 
Lannigan,  last  week,  who  had  just  returned  from  the  States ; 
why,  says  I,  Pat,  what  on  airth  brought  you  back?  Bad 
luck  to  them,  says  Pat,  if  I  warn't  properly  bit.  What  do 
you  get  a  day  in  Nova  Scotia  ?  says  Judge  Beler  to  me. 

:  "»  Four  shillmgs,  your  Lordship,  says  I.  There  are  no  Lords 
here,  says  he,  we  are  all  free.  Well,  says  he,  I'll  give  you 
as  much  in  one  day  as  you  can  earn  there  in  two ;  I'll  give 
you  eight  shillings.  Long  life  to  your  Lordship,  says  I. 
So  next  day  to  it  I  went  with  a  party  of  men  a-digging  a 
piece  of  canal,  and  if  it  wasn't  a  hot  day  my  name  is  not 
Pat  Lannigan.  Presently  I  looked  up  and  straightened  my 
back,  says  I  to  a  comrade  of  mine,  Mick,  says  I,  I'm  very 
dry  ;  with  that,  says  the  overseer,  we  don't  allow  gentlemen 
to  talk  at  their  work  in  this  country.  Faith,  I  soon  found 
out  for  my  two  days'  pay  in  one,  I  had  to  do  two  days' 
work  in  one,  and  pay  two  weeks'  board  in  one,  and  at  the 
end  of  a  month,  I  found  myself  no  better  off  in  pocket  than 
in  Nova  Scotia ;  while  the  devil  a  bone  in  my  body  that 
didn't  ache  with  pain,  and  as  for  my  nose,  it  took  to  bleed- 
ing, and  bled  day  and  night  entirely.  Upon  my  soul,  Mr. 
Slick,  said  he,  the  poor  labourer  does  not  last  long  in  your 


JUSTICE   PETTIFOG. 


25 


ccHintry ;  what  with  new  rum,  hard  labour,  and  hot  weather, 
you'll  see  the  graves  of  the  Irish  each  side  of  the  canals, 
ibr  all  the  world  like  two  rows  of  potatoes  in  a  field  that 
have  forgot  to  come  up. 

It  is  a  land.  Sir,  continued  the  Clockmaker,  of  hard  work. 
We  all  have  two  kind  of  slaves,  the  niggers  and  the  white 
slaves.  All  European  labourers  and  blacks,  who  come  out 
to  us,  do  our  hard  bodily  work,  while  we  direct  it  to  a 
profitable  end ;  neither  rich  nor  poor,  high  nor  low,  with  us 
eat  the  bread  of  idleness.  Our  whole  capital  is  in  active 
operation,  and  our  whole  population  is  in  active  employn;ent. 
An  idle  fellow,  like  Pugnose,  who  runs  away  to  us,  is  clapt 
into  harness  afore  he  knows  where  he  is,  and  is  made  to 
work ,'  like  a  horse  that  refuses  to  draw,  he  is  put  into  the 
Team-boat ;  he  finds  some  before  him  and  others  behind 
him,  he  must  either  draw.,  or  be  dragged  to  death. 


iX^  v^v    ;i^-7'-^ 


■•;;•:• 


f^VV-^tS'.i:-;.'"-  f,  ..■^-■1^  • 


CHAPTER  V.'    -^^^ku^'^^-fi^^ 
JUSTICE  PETTIFOG.     |  i!*'^  *    tr"^^  fe^ 


i?;'jii&^. 


.-n- 


In  the  morning  the  Clockmaker  informed  me  that  a  Jijs- 
tice's  Court  was  to  be  held  that  day  at  Pugnose's  Inn,  and 
he  guessed  he  could  do  a  little  business  among  the  country 
folks  that  would  be  assembled  there.  Some  of  them,  he 
said,  owed  him  for  clocks,  and  it  would  save  him  the  world 
of  travelling,  to  have  the  Justice  and  Constable  to  drive 
them  up  together.  If  you  want  a  fat  wether,  there's  nothing 
like  penning  up  the  whole  flock  in  a  corner.  I  guess,  said 
he,  if  General  Campbell  knew  what  sort  of  a  man  that  are 
magistrate  was,  he'd  disband  him  pretty  quick :  he's  a  regu- 
lar suck-egg — a  disgrace  to  the  country.  I  guess  if  he  act- 
ed that  way  in  Kentucky,  he'd  get  a  breakfast  of  cold  'ead 
some  morning,  out  of  the  small  eend  of  a  rifle,  he'd  find 
pretty  difficult  to  digest.  They  tell  me  he  issues  three  hun- 
dred writs  a  year,  the  cost  of  which,  including  that  tarna- 
tion Constable's  fees,  can't  amount  to  nothinsr  less  than 
«i,OUO  dollars  per  annum.  If  the  Hon.  Daniel  Webster  had 
3 


':'i^.-jL-iii''-''^  »A  ..■",  (*_  ' 


26 


THS   CLOCKNAKKR. 


i  111 


i! 


him  afore  a  jury,  I  reckon  he'd  turn  him  inside  out,  and 
slip  him  back  again,  as  quick  as  an  old  stocking.  He'd 
paint  him  to  the  life,  as  plain  to  be  known  as  the  head  of 
Gineral  Jackson.  He's  jist  a  fit  feller  for  Lynch  law,  to 
be  tried,  hanged,  and  damned,  all  at  once — there's  more  nor 
him  in  the  country — there's  some  of  the  breed  in  every  coun- 
try in  the  Province,  jist  one  or  two  to  do  the  dirty  work,  as 
we  keep  niggers  for  jobs  that  would  give  a  white  man  the 
cholera.  They  ought  to  pay  his  passage,  as  we  do  with 
such  critters,  tell  him  his  place  is  taken  in  the  Mail  Coach, 
and  if  he  is  found  here  afler  twenty  •four  hours,  they'd  make 
a  carpenter's  plumb<bob  of  him,  and  hang  him  outside  the 
church  steeple,  to  try  if  it  was  perpendicular.  He  almost 
always  gives  judgment  for  plaintiff,  and  if  the  poor  defend- 
ant has  an  offset,  he  makes  him  sue  it,  so  that  it  grinds  a 
grist  both  ways  for  him,  like  the  upper  and  lower  millstone. 

People  soon  began  to  assemble,  some  on  foot  and  others 
on  horseback,  and  in  wagons — Pugnose's  tavern  was  all 
bustle  and  confusion — Plaintiffs,  Defendants,  and  witnesses, 
all  talking,  iquarrelling,  explaining,  and  drinking.  Here 
comes  the  Squire,  said  one ;  I'm  thinking  his  horse  carries 
more  roguery  than  law,  said  another ;  they  must  have  been 
in  proper  want  of  timber  to  make  a  justice  of,  said  a  third, 
when  they  took  such  a  crooked  stick  as  that ;  sap-headed 
epough  too  for  refuse,  said  a  stout  looking  farmer :  may  be 
so,  said  another,  but  as  hard  at  the  heart  as  a  log  of  elm ; 
howsomever,  said  a  third,  I  hope  it  won't  be  long  afore  he 
has  the  wainy  edge  scoured  off  of  him,  any  how.  Many 
more  such  remarks  were  made,  all  drawn  from  familiar 
objects,  but  all  expressive  of  bitterness  and  contempt. 

He  carried  one  or  two  large  books  with  him  in  his  gig, 
with  a  considerable  roll  of  papers.  As  soon  as  the  obse- 
quious Mr.  Pugnose  saw  him  at  the  door,  he  assisted  him 
to  alight,  ushered  him  into  the  "  best  room,"  and  desired 
the  Constable  to  attend  "  the  Squire."  The  crowd  imme- 
diately entered,  and  the  Constable  opened  the  court  in  due 
form,  and  commanded  silence. 

Taking  out  a  long  list  of  causes,  Mr.  Pettifog  commenced 
reading  the  names — ^James  Sharp  versus  John  Slug — call 
John  Slug ;  John  Slug  being  duly  called  and  not  aniswering, 
was  defaulted.   In  this  manner  he  oroceeded  to  default  some 


-Ji 


■■;>.  ..I  ^.KrAfr,:;"^,. 


JUSTICE    PETTIFOG. 


a? 


)  s  more  nor 


20  or  30  persons ;  at  last  he  came  to  a  cause,  William  Hare 
versus  Dennis  O'Brien — call  Dennis  O'Brien ;  here  I  am, 
said  a  voice  from  the  other  room — here  I  am,  who  has  any- 
thing to  say  to  Dennis  O'Brien  ?  Make  less  noiso,  sir,  said 
the  Justice,  or  I'll  commit  you.  Commit  me,  is  it,  said 
Dennis,  take  care  then.  Squire,  you  don't  commit  yourself. 
You  are  sued  by  William  Hare  for  three  pounds  for  a  month's 
board  and  lodging,  what  have  you  to  say  to  it  ?  Say  to  it, 
said  Dennis,  did  you  ever  hear  what  Tim  Doyle  said  when 
he  was  going  to  be  hanged  for  stealing  a  pig  ?  says,  he,  if 
the  pig  hadn't  squeeled  in  the  bag,  I'd  never  have  been  found 
out,  so  I  wouldn't — so  I'll  take  warning  by  Tim  Doyle's 
fate ;  I  say  nothing,  let  him  prove  it.  Here  Mr.  Hare  was 
called  on  for  his  proof,  but  taking  it  for  granted  that  the 
board  would  be  admitted,  and  the  defence  opened,  he  was  not 
prepared  with  proof.  I  demand,  said  Dennis,  I  demand  an 
unsuit.  Here  there  was  a  ccnsultation  between  the  Justice 
and  the  Plaintiff,  when  the  Justice  said,  I  shall  not  nonsuit 
him,  I  shall  continue  the  cause.  What,  hang  it  up  till  next 
Court — you  had  better  hang  me  up  then  at  once — how  can 
a  poor  man  come  here  so  often — this  may  be  the  entertain- 
ment Pugnose  advertises  for  horses,  but  by  Jacquers,  it  is 
no  entertainment  for  me — I  admit  then,  sooner  than  come 
again,  I  admit  it.  You  admit  you  owe  him  three  pounds 
then  for  a  month's  board  ?  I  admit  no  such  thing,  I  say  I 
boarded  with  him  a  month,  and  was  like  Pat  Moran's  cow 
at  the  end  of  it,  at  the  lifting,  bad  luck  to  him.  A  neigh- 
bour was  here  called,  who  proved  that  the  three  pounds 
might  be  the  usual  price.  And  do  you  know  I  taught  his 
children  to  write  at  the  school,  said  Dennis — you  might, 
answered  the  witness — And  what  is  that  worth  ?  I  don't 
know — ^You  don't  know,  faith,  I  believe  you're  right,  said 
Dennis,  for  if  the  children  are  half  as  big  rogues  as  the 
father,  they  might  leave  writing  alone,  or  they'd  be  like 
to  be  hanged  for  forgery.  Here  Dennis  produced  his  account 
for  teaching  five  children,  two  quarters,  at  9  shillings  a 
quarter  each,  £4  10s.  I  am  sorry.  Mr.  O'Brien,  said  the 
Justice,  very  sorry,  but  your  defence  will  not  avail  you, 
you  account  is  too  large  for  one  Justice,  any  sum  over  three 
pounds  must  be  sued  before  two  magistrates — Rut  !  only 
Want  to  offset  as  much  as  will  pay  the  board — It  can't  be 


•,  ,v,- 


28 


THE    CLOCKMilKER. 


done  in  thi^s  simpo,  said  the  magistrate;  I  will  consalt  Juv- 
tice  Doolitflo,  my  neighbour,  and  if  Mr.  Hare  won't  settle 
>vith  you,  I  will  sue  it  for  you.  Well,  said  Denni«,  all  I 
Jiuve  to  sny  is,  that  there  is  not  so  big  a  rogue  as  Hare  on 
the  whole  river,  save  and  except  one  scoundrel  who  shoU 
be  nameless,  making  a  significant  and  humble  bow  to  the 
Justice.  Here  there  was  a  general  laugh  throughout  the 
Court — Dennis  retired  to  the  next  room  to  indemnify  him- 
self by  another  glass  of  grog,  and  venting  his  abuse  against 
Hare  and  the  Magistrate.  Disgustei^  at  the  gross  partiality 
of  the  Justice,  I  also  quitted  the  Court,  fully  concurring  in 
the  opinion,  though  not  in  the  language,  that  Dennis  was 
giving  utterance  to  in  the  bar  room. 

Pettifog  owed  his  elevation  to  his  interest  at  an  election. 
It  is  to  be  hoped  that  his  subsequent  merits  will  be  t^ 
promptly  rewarded,  by  his  dismissal  from  a  bench  which  lie 
disgraces  and  defiles  by  his  presence.       .  .     ,-.  ,,*     «»...... 


♦-«.  >';<! 


■'■iV' 


>4(.- 


1» 

.if" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ANECDOTESw 


'.,  ■•  •  ■   •. '  I     -^^ 

V  -<-        , 


■■»>. 


^^M 


As  we  mounted  our  horses  to  proceed  to  Amherst,  groups 
of  country  people  were  to  be  seen  standing  about  Pugnose'» 
inn,  talking  over  the  events  of  the  morning,  while  others 
were  dispersing  to  their  several  homes. 

A  f  fetty  prime,  superfine  scoundrel,  that  Pettifog,  said 
the  Clockmaker ;  he  and  his  constable  are  well  mated,  and 
theyVe  travelled  in  the  same  geer  so  long  together,  thai 
they  make  abeut  as  nice  a  yoke  of  rascals,  as  you'll  meet  in 
a  day's  ride.  They  pull  together  like  one  rope  reeved 
through  two  blocks.  That  are  constable  was  een  almost 
strangled  t'uther  day ;  and  if  he  had'nt  had  a  little  grain 
more  wit  than  his  master,  I  guess  he'd  had  his  wind-pipo 
stopped  as  tight  as  a  bladder.  There  is  an  outlaw  of  n 
feller  here,  for  all  the  world  like  one  of  our  Kentucky  Squat- 
ters,  one  Bill  Smith — a  critter  that  neither  fears  man  nor 


rJ 


^^ 


AirCCDOTES.    ' 

devil.  Sheriff  and  constable  can  make  no  hand  of  him— 
they  can't  catch  him  no  how ;  and  if  they  do  come  up  with 
him,  he  slips  through  their  fingers  like  an  eel :  ana  then, 
he  goes  armed,  and  ho  can  knocK  the  eye  out  of  a  squirrel 
with  a  ball,  at  fifly  yards  hand  running — a  regular  ugly 
customer. 

Well,  Nabb,  the  constable,, had  a  writ  agin  him,  and  he 
was  cyphering  a  good  while  how  he  should  catch  him  ;  at 
last  he  hit  on  a  plan  that  he  thought  was  pretty  clever,  and 
he  schesmed  for  a  chance  to  try  it.  So  one  day  he  heard 
that  Bill  was  up  at  Pugnose's  Inn,  a  settling  some  business^, 
and  was  likely  to  be  there  all  night.  Nabb  waits  till  it  was 
considerable  late  in  the  evening,  and  then  he  takes  his 
horse  and  rides  down  to  the  inn,  and  hitches  his  beast  be- 
hind the  hay  stack.  Then  he  crawls  up  to  the  window  and 
peeps  in  and  watches  there  till  Bill  should  go  to  bed,  thinks 
ing  the  best  way  to  catch  them  are  sort  of  animals  is  to 
catch  them  asleep.  Well,  he  kept  Nabb  a  waiting  outside 
so  long,  with  his  talking  and  singing,  that  he  well  nigh 
fell  asleep  first  himself;  at  last  Bill  began  to  strip  for  bed. 
First  he  takes  out  a  long  pocket  pistol,  examines  the 
priming,  and  lays  it  down  on  the  table  near  the  head  of  the 
bed. 

When  Nabb  sees  this,  he  begins  to  creep  like  all  over, 
and  feel  kinder  ugly,  and  rather  sick  of  his  job ;  but  when 
he  seed  him  jump  into  bed,  and  heerd  him  snore  out  a 
noise  like  a  man  driving  pigs  to  market,  he  plucked  up 
courage,  and  thought  he  might  do  it  easy  arter  all  if  he 
was  to  open  the  door  soflly,  and  make  one  spring  on  him 
afore  he  could  wake.  So  round  he  goes,  lifls  up  the  latch 
of  his  door  as  soil  as  soap,  and  makes  a  jump  right  atop  oi 
him,  as  he  lay  on  the  bed.  I  guess  I  got  you  this  time, 
said  Nabb.  I  guess  so  too,  said  Bill,  but  I  wish  you 
would'nl  lay  so  plaguy  heavy  on  me — jist  turn  over,  that's 
a  good  fellow,  will  you  ?  With  that.  Bill  lays  his  arm  on 
him  to  raise  him  up,  for  he  said  he  was  squeezed  as  flat  as 
a  pancake,  and  afore  Nabb  knew  where  he  was,  Bill  rolled 
him  right  over,  and  was  atop  of  him.  Then  he  seized  him 
by  the  throat,  and  twisted  his  pipe,  till  his  eyes  were  as  big 
as  saucers,  and  hjs  tongue  grew  six  inches  longer,  while  he 
kept  making  faces,  for  all  the  world  like  the  pirate  that  was 
3* 


'JTW* 


80 


THE   CI,OCkMAkinR. 


hanged  on  Monumrnt  flill,  nt  Boston.  It  wns  pretty  nrnr 
over  with  him,  w  hen  Nuhb  thought  of  his  spurs  ;  so  he  just 
curled  up  both  heels,  and  drove  the  Hpiirs  rirrht  into  him; 
he  lot  him  have  it  jist  below  his  cruper ;  na  Bill  was  naked, 
he  had  a  luir  chance,  and  he  ragged  him  like  the  leaf  of  a 
book  cut  open  with  your  finger.  At  lust.  Bill  could  stand 
it  no  longer;  he  let  go  his  hold,  and  roared  like  a  bull,  and 
clapping  both  hands  ahind  him,  he  out  of  the  door  like  a 
shot.  If  it  had'nt  been  for  them  are  spurs,  I  guess  Bill 
would  have  saved  the  hangman  a  job  of  Nabb  that  time.   , 

The  Clockmaker  was  an  observing  man,  and  equally 
communicative.  Nothing  escaped  his  notice;  he  knew 
every  body^s  genealogy,  history,  and  means,  and  like  a 
driver  of  an  English  Stage  Coach,  was  not  unwilling  to 
impart  what  he  knew.  Do  you  see  that  snug  looking 
house  there,  said  he,  with  a  short  sarce  garden  afore  it  1 
that  belongs  to  Elder  Thomson.  The  elder  is  pretty  close- 
fisted,  and  holds  special  fast  to  all  he  gets.  He  is  a  just 
^an  and  very  pious,  but  1  have  observed  when  a  man  be- 
comes near  about  too  good,  he  is  apt,  sometimes,  to  slip 
ahead  into  avarice,  unless  he  looks  sharper  arter  his  girths. 
A  friend  of  mine  in  Connecticut,  an  old  sea  captain,  who 
was  once  let  in  for  it  pretty  deep,  by  a  man  with  a  broader 
brim  than  common,  said  to  me  "  friend  Sam,"  says  he,  "  I 
don't  like  those  folks  who  are  too  d — n  good."  There  is, 
I  expect,  seme  truth  in  it,  tho'  he  need'nt  have  swore  at  all, 
but  he  was  an  awful  hand  to  swear.  Howsomever  that 
may  be,  there  is  a  story  about  the  Elder  that's  not  so  coarse 
neither. 

It  appears  an  old  Minister  came  there  once,  to  hold  a 
meetin'  at  his  house — well,  after  meetin'  was  over,  the 
Elder  took  the  minister  all  over  his  farm,  which  is  pretty 
tidy,  I  tell  you  ;  and  he  showed  him  a  great  Ox  he  had, 
and  a  swingeing  big  Pig,  that  weighed  some  six  or  seven 
hundred  weight,  that  he  was  plaguy  proud  of,  but  he  never 
offered  the  old  minister  any  thing  to  eat  or  drink.  The 
preacher  was  pretty  tired  of  all  this,  and  seeing  no  pros- 
pect of  being  asked  to  partake  with  the  family,  and  tolera- 
bly sharp  set,  he  asked  one  of  the  boys  to  fetch  him  his 
horse  out  of  the  barn.  When  he  was  taking  leave  of  the 
Elder  (there  were  seveFal  folks  by  at  the  time),  says  be, 


";<,*L!}iaiuP41&j.4-i.i:WLjft>'-i*-Ai::  r.-i-^tii-*..;,^:  »-.:;„•.■ 


lot  so  coarse 


'.^ifv 


■'•i  OO   AHEAD.*  1  it 

Elder  Thomson,  you  have  a  fine  farm  hero,  a  very  fine 
farm,  indeed  ;  von  have  a  largo  Ox  loo,  a  very  largo  Ox  ; 
and  I  think,  said  li'-,  I've  seen  to  day,  (turning  and  looking 
him  full  in  the  ('no,  for  lie  intended  to  hit  him  pretty  hard,) 
/  think  I  hope  aen  to-day  the  ^eatetit  Hog  I  ever  saw  in 
my  life.  The  neighbours  snickered  a  good  deal,  and  the 
Elder  felt  pretty  streaked.  I  guess  he'd  give  his^  great  Pig 
or  his  great  Ox  either,  if  that  story  had'nt  got  wind. 


t. 


.'  vx   r 


'-^■^W^'' 


'  '■^■'1   V!  •»•; 


Jr.. 


v>*. 


V 


.■>  J 


S.-VW 


CHAPTER  VII. 

GO  AHEAD.      (\ 


.f*i■■v.«^. 


Whew  we  resumed  our  conversation,  the  Clockmaker 
said  "  I  guess  we  are  the  greatest  nation  on  the  face  of  the 
airth,  and  the  most  enlightened  too." 

This  was  rather  too  arrogant  to  pass  unnoticed,  and  I 
was  about  replying,  that  whatever  doubts  there  might  be  on 
that  subject,  there  could  be  none  whatever  that  they  were 
the  most  modest ;  when  he  continued,  we  "  go  ahead,"  the 
Nova  Scotians  go  "  astarn."  Our  ships  go  ahead  of  the 
ships  of  other  folks,  our  steam-boats  beat  the  British  in 
speed,  and  so  do  our  stage-coaches ;  and  I  reckon  a  real 
right  down  New  York  trotter  might  stump  the  univarse  for 
going  "  ahead."  But  since  we  mtroduced  the  Rail-Roads, 
if  we  don't  "  go  ahead"  its  a  pity.  We  never  fairly  knew 
what  going  the  whole  hog  was  till  then ;  we  actilly  went 
ahead  of  ourselves,  and  that's  no  easy  matter,  I  tell  you. 
If  they  only  had  edication  here,  they  might  learn  to  do  so 
too,  but  they  don't  know  nothin.'  You  undervalue  them, 
said  I,  they  have  their  College  and  Academies,  their  gram- 
mar schools  and  primary  institutions,  and  I  believe  there 
are  few  among  them  who  cannot  read  and  write. 

I  guess  all  that's  nothin',  said  he.  As  for  Latin  and 
Greek,  we  don't  valy  it  a  cent ;  we  teach  it,  and  so  we  do 
painting  and  music,  because  the  English  do,  and  we  like 
to  go  ahead  on  'em  even  in  them  are  things.  As  for  read- 
ing, its  Well  enough  for  them  that  has  nothing  to  do,  and 


THS  CtOdKMAXeil. 


§ 


writing  is  plaguy  apt  to  bring  a  man  to  States-prison,  piar- 
ticularly  if  he  writes  his  name  so  like  another  man  as  to 
have  it  mistaken  for  his'n.  Cyphering  is  the  thing — if  a 
man  knows  how  to  cypher  he  is  sure  to  grow  rich.  .  We 
are  a  **  calculating"  people,  we  all  cypher. 

A  horse  that  wont  go  ahead  is  apt  to  run  back,  and  the 
more  you  whip  him,  the  faster  he  goes  astarn.  That's 
jist  the  way  with  the  Nova  Scotians;  they  have  been 
running  back  so  fast  lately,  that  they  have  tumbled  over  a 
Bank  or  two,  and  nearly  broke  their  necks ;  and  now 
theyVe  got  up  and  shook  themselves,  they  swear  their 
dirty  clothes  and  bloody  noses  are  all  owing  to  the  Banks. 
I  guess  if  they  wont  look  ahead  for  the  future,  they'll  larn 
to  look  behind,  and  see  if  there's  a  bank  near  hand  'em. 

A  bear  always  goes  down  a  tree  stam  foremost.  He 
is  a  cunning  critter,  he  knows  tante  safe  to  carry  a  heavy 
load  over  his  head,  and  his  rump  is  so  heavy,  he  dont  like 
to  trust  it  over  his'n,  for  fear  it  might  take  a  lurch,  and 
carry  him,  heels  over  head,  to  the  ground ;  so  he  lets  his 
starn  down  first,  and  his  head  arter.  I  wish  the  blue- 
noses  would  find  as  good  an  excuse  in  their  rumps  for 
running  backwards  as  he  has.  But  the  bear  " cyders" he 
knows  how  many  pounds  his  hams  weigh,  and  he  "  calcu- 
lates" if  he  carried  them  up  in  the  air,  they  might  be  top 
heavy  for  him. 

If  we  had  this  Province  we'd  go  to  work  and  "  cypher" 
right  off.  Halifax  is  nothing  without  a  river  or  back  coun- 
try ;  add  nothing  to  nothing,  and  I  guess  you  have  nothing 
still — add  a  Rail  Road  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  how 
much  do  you  git  ?  That  requires  cyphering — it  will  cost 
300,000  dollars,  or  76,000  pounds  your  money — add  for 
notions  omitted  in  the  additional  column,  one  third,  and  it 
makes  even  money — 100,000  pounds.  Interest  at  6  per 
cent.  6,000  pounds  a  year,  now  turn  over  the  slate  and 
count  up  freight — I  make  it  upwards  of  25,000  pounds  a 
year.  If  I  had  you  at  the  desk  I'd  show  you  a  bill  of 
items.  Now  comes  "  subtraction  /"  deduct  cost  of  engines, 
wear  and  tear,  and  expenses,  and  what  not,  and  reduce  it 
for  shortness  down  to  6,000  pounds  a  year,  the  amount  ol 
mterest.  What  figures  have  you  got  now  ?  you  have  an 
investment  that  pays  interest,  I  guess,  and  if  it  dont  pay 


^ii.     r*^    430  AHEAD.    - 

more  then  I  dont  know  chalk  from  cheese.  But  cnippofle 
it  don't,  and  that  it  yields  only  2^  per  cent,  (and  it  re- 
quires good  cyphering,  I  tell  you,  to  say  how  it  would  act 
with  folks  that  like  going  astam  better  than  going  ahead^) 
what  would  them  are  wise  ones  say  then?  Why  the 
critters  would  say  it  wont  pay  ;  but  I  say  the  sum  ant  half 
stated. 

Can  you  count  in  your  head  ?  Not  to  any  extent,  said 
I.  Well,  that's  an  etarnal  pity,  said  the  Clockmaker,  for 
I  should  like  to  show  you  Yankee  Cyphering.  What  is  the 
entire  real  estate  of  Halifax  worth,  at  a  valeation  ?  I  really 
cannot  say.  Ah,  said  he,  I  see  you  dont  cypher,  and 
Latin  and  Greek  wont  do ;  them  are  people  had  no  rail- 
roads. Well,  find  out,  and  then  only  add  ten  per  cent,  to 
it,  for  increased  value,  and  if  it  dont  give  the  cost  of  a  rail- 
road, then  my  name  is  not  Sam  Slick.     Well  the  land 

between  Halifax  and  Ardoise  is  worth nothing,  add 

6  per  cent,  to  that,  and  send  the  sum  to  the  College,  and 
ax  the  students  how  much  it  comes  to.  But  when  you 
get  into  Hants  County,  I  guess  ycm  have  land  worth 
coming  all  the  way  from  Boston  to  see.  His  Royal  High- 
ness the  King,  I  guess,  has'nt  got  the  like  in  his  dominions. 
Well,  add  15  per  cent,  to  all  them  are  lands  that  border  on 
Wip.dbor  Basin,  add  5  per  cent,  to  what  butts  on  basin  of 
Mines,  and  then  what  do  you  get?  A  pretty  considerable 
sum,  I  tell  you — but  its  no  use  to  give  you  the  chalks  if  you 
can't  keep  the  talliea. 

Now  we  will  lay  down  the  schoblmaster^s  assistant  and 
take  up  another  book  every  bit  and  grain  as  good  as  that, 
although  these  folks  affect  to  sneer  at  it — I  mean  human 
natur.  Ah  !  said  I,  a  knowledge  of  that  was  of  great  ser- 
vice to  you,  certainly,  in  the  sale  of  your  clock  to  the  old 
Deacon ;  let  us  see  how  it  will  assist  you  now.  What  does 
a  clock  want  that's  run  down  ?  said  he.  Undoubtedly  to 
be  wound  up,  I  replied.  I  guess  you've  hit  it  this  time. 
The  folks  of  Halifax  have  run  down,  and  they'll  never  go 
to  all  etarnity,  till  they  are  wound  up  into  motion  ;  the 
works  are  all  good,  and  it  is  plaguy  well  cased  and  set — it 
only  wants  a  key.  Put  this  railroad  into  operation,  and 
the  activity  it  will  inspire  into  business,  the  new  life  it  will 

Its  like  lifting  a  child  off  ' 


give  the  place,  will  surprise  you. 


.'.'*«^^«BB. 


34 


THE   CLOCXMAKJLM. 


its  crawling,  and  putting  him  on  his  legs  to  run — see  how 
the  little  critter  goes  ahead  arter  that.  A  kurnel,  (I  dont 
mean  a  Kurnel  of  militia,  for  we  don't  valy  that  breed  o' 
cattle  nothing — they  do  nothing  but  strut  about  and  screech 
all  day,  like  peacocks,  but  a  kurnel  of  grain,  when  sowed, 
will  stool  into  several  shoots,  and  each  shoot  bear  many 
kurnels,  and  will  multiply  itself  thus — 4  times  1  is  4,  and 
4  times  25  is  100,  (you  see  all  natur  cyphers,  except  the 
blue-noses.)  Jist  so,  this  here  railroad  will  not,  perhaps, 
beget  other  railroads,  but  it  will  beget  a  spirit  of  enter- 
prise, that  will  beget  other  useful  improvements.  It  will 
enlarge  the  sphere  and  the  means  of  trade,  open  new  sources 
of  traffic  and  supply — develop  resources — and  what  is  of 
more  value  perhaps  than  all — beget  motion.  It  will  teach 
the  folks  that  go  astarn  or  stand  stock  still,  like  the  state- 
house  in  Boston,  (though  they  do  say  the  foundation  of  that 
has  moved  a  little  this  summer)  not  only  to  go  " ahead" 
but  to  w/llify  time  and  space. 

Here  his  horse  (who,  feeling  the  animation  of  his  master, 
had  boon  j-estive  of  late)  set  off  at  a  most  prodigious  rate 
of  trotting.  It  was  sometime  before  he  was  reined  up. 
When  I  overtook  him,  the  Clockmaker  said,  this  old  Yankee 
horse,  you  see,  understands  our  word  "  go  ahead"  better  nor 
these  blue>noses. 

What  is  it  J  he  coatinuedt  what  is  it  that  ^fetters*  the  heels 
of  a  young  country^  and  hangs  like  *  a  poke^  around  its 
neck  ?  what  retards  the  cultivation  of  its  «ot7,  and  the  im- 
provement of  its  fisheries  ? — the  high  price  of  labour ^  I 
guess.  Welly  whafs  a  railroad?  The  "ubstitution  of 
mechanical  for  human  and  animal  labour,  on  a  scale  as 
grand  as  our  great  country.  Labour  is  dear  in  America, 
and  cheap  in  Europe.  A  railroad,  therefore,  is  compara- 
tively no  manner  of  use  to  them,  to  what  it  is  to  us — it  does 
wonders  there,  but  it  works  miracles  here.  There  it  makes 
the  old  man  younger,  but  here  it  makes  the  child  a  giant. 
To  us  it  is  river,  bridge,  road,  and  canal,  all  one.  It  saves 
what  we  han't  got  to  spare,  men,  horses,  carts,  vessels, 
barges,  and  whafs  all  in  all — time. 

Since  the  creation  of  the  Universe,  I  guess  it's  the 
greatest  invention,  arter  man.     Now  this  is  what  I  call 


■..._-..  U-  ""'-"fc-*'. 


>-.,^.i'.4^.^tA 


THE  F  .^ACHER  THAT  WANDERED,  ETC. 


a5 


run— see  how 
kurnel,  (I  dont 
■f  that  breed  o' 
tut  and  screech 
,  when  sowed, 
)ot  bear  many 
3S  1  is  4,  and 
ers,  except  the 
1  not,  perhaps, 
ipirit  of  enter- 
ments.  It  will 
en  new  sources 
md  what  is  of 
It  will  teach 
like  the  state- 
indation  of  that 
o  go  " ahead" 

i  of  his  master, 
prodigious  rate 
(ras  reined  up. 
his  old  Yankee 
ead"  better  nor 

iters'  the  heela 
around  its 
f,  and  the  im- 
of  labour^  1 
Yihstitution  of 
Ion  a  scale  as 
\r  in  America^ 
?,  is  compara' 
\to  us — it  does 
yhere  it  makes 
jhild  a  giant. 
\one.  It  saves 
:art8,  vessels^ 

luess  it's   the 
what  I  call 


"  cyphering"  arter  human  natur,  while  figures  are  cypher- 
ing arter  the  "  assistant."  These  two  sorts  of  cyphering 
make  idecatiou'— and  you  may  depend  on't.  Squire,  there 
is  nothing  like  folks  cyphering,  if  they  want  to  "  go  ahead.** 

.^^'■'*^*^'^'^r:'-^-^  CHAPTER  VIII.     S^--^^ 
THE  PREACHER  THAT  WANDERED  FROM  HIS  TEXT. 

I  ouBSS,  said  the  Clockmaker,  we  know  more  of  Nova 
Scotia  than  the  blue-noses  themselves  do.  The  Yankees 
see  further  ahead  than  most  folks ;  they  can  een  a  most  see 
round  t'other  side  of  a  thing ;  indeed  some  on  them  have 
hurt  their  eyes  by  it,  and  sometimes  I  think  that's  the  reason 
such  a  sight  of  them  wear  specti<2les*  The  first  I  ever 
heerd  tell  of  Cumberland  was  from  Mr.  Everett  of  Congress ; 
he  know'd  as  much  about  it  as  if  he  had  lived  here  all  his 
.  days,  and  may  be  a  little  grain  more.  He  is  a  splendid 
man  that — we  class  him  No.  1,  letter  A.  One  night  I 
chanced  to  go  into  General  Peep's  tavern  at  Boston,  and  who 
should  I  see  there  but  the  great  Mr.  Everett,  a  studying  over 
a  map  of  the  province  of  Nova  Scotia.  Why  it  aint  possible 
said  I — if  that  aint  Professor  Everett,  as  I  am  alive !  why 
how  do  you  do.  Professor?  Pretty  well,  I  give  you  thanks, 
said  he ;  how  be  you  t  but  I  aint  no  longer  Professor;  I  gin 
that  up,  and  also  the  trade  of  Preaching,  and  took  to  poli- 
tics. You  don't  say  so,  said  I ;  why  what  on  airth  is  the 
cause  o'  that  ?  Why,  says  he,  look  here,  Mr.  Slick.  What 
is  the  use  of  reading  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon  to  our  free 
and  enlightened  citizens,  that  are  every  mite  and  mortal  as 
wise  as  He  was  ?  That  are  man  undertook  to  say  there  was 
nothing  new  under  the  sun.  I  guess  he'd  think  he  spoke 
a  little  too  fast,  if  he  was  to  see  our  steam-boats,  railroads, 
and  India  rubber  shoes — three  inventions  worth  more  nor 
all  he  knew  put  into  a  heap  together.  Well,  I  don't  know, 
said  I,  but  somehow  or  another  I  guess  you'd  have  found 
preaching  the  best  speculation  in  the  long  run ;  them  ar« 


i'!i 


u 


•ym-  ,<^i»  •THE  CLOCKHAKEIU    .»|»H  8i^r    K 


m 


Unitarians  pay  better  than  Uncle  Sam  (we  call,  said  the 
Clockmaker,  the  American  public  Uncle  Sam,  as  you  call 
the  British  John  Bull.) 

That  remark  seemed  to  grig  him  a  little ;  he  felt  oneasy 

like,  and  walked  twice  across  the  room,  fifty  fathoms-  deep 

in  thought ;  at  last  he  said,  which  way  are  you  from,  Mr. 

Slick,  this  hitch  ?     Why,  says  I,  I've  been  away  up  south 

a   speculating   in  nutmegs.     I   hope,  says  the  Professor, 

they  were  a  good  article,  the  real  right  down  genuine  thing. 

J.  No  mistake,  says  I, — no  mistake.  Professor :  they  were  all 

..  prime,  first  chop ;  but  why  did  you  ax  that  question  ?   Why, 

says  he,  that  eternal  scoundrel,  that  Captain  John  Allspice 

of  Nahant,  he  used  to  trade  to  Charleston,  and  he  carried 

a  cargo  once  there  of  fifty  barrels  of  nutmegs :  well,  he  put 

a  half  a  bushel  of  good  ones  into  each  eend  of  the  barrel, 

y  and  the  rest  he  filled  up  with  wooden  ones,  so  like  the  real 

thing,  no  soul  could  tell  the  difference  until  he  bit  one  with 

-  his  teeth,  and  that  he  never  thought  of  doing,  until  he  was 

first  hit  himself.     Well,  its  been  a  standing  joke  with  them 

\  «outherliers  agin  us  ever  since.  -r  ^vi.*-.'^*  ,*>>>;*•  w^ 

^w      It  was  only  tother  day  at  Washington,  that  eVerlaisting 

3   Virginy  duellist  General  Cuffy,  afore  a  number  of  senators, 

j:,  at  the  President's  house,  said  to  me.  Well  Everett,  says  he 

,    — you  knov/  I  was  always  dead  agin  your  Tariff  bill,  but 

,,"  [  have  changed  my  mind  since  your  able  speech  on  it ;  1 

'^  shall  vote  for  it  now.    Give  me  your  hand,  says  I,  General 

Cuffy;  the  Boston  folks  will  be  dreadful  glad  when  they 

hear  your  splendid  talents  are  on  our  side — I-think  it  will 

S  go  now — we'll  carry  it.    Yes,  says  he,  your  factories  down 

east  beat  all  natur ;  they  go  ahead  on  the  English  a  long 

chalk.     You  may  depend  I  was   glad  to   hear  the  New 

j(  Englanders  spoken  of  in  that  way — I  felt  proud,  I  tell  you 

/  —and,  says  he,  there's  one  manufacture  that  might  stump 

I  all  Europe  to  produce  the  like.    What's  that  ?  says  I,  look- 

ing  as  pleased  all  the  time  as  a  gall  that's  tickled.     Why, 

says  he,  the  facture  of  wooden  nutmegs ;  that's  a  cap  sheef 

that  bangs  the  bush — its  a  real  Yankee  patent  invention. 

With  that  all  the  gentlemen  set  up  a  laugh,  you  might  have 

heerd  away  down  to  Sandy  Hook — and  the  General  gig 

gobbled  like  a  great  turkey  cock,  the  half  nigger,  half  alii 


THE    PREACHER   THAT    WAI7DEREO,    ETC. 


87 


;  he  felt  oneasy 
\y  fathoms-  deep 
re  you  from,  Mr. 
I  away  up  south 
s  the  Professor, 
n  genuine  thing, 
r :  they  were  all 
question?  Why, 
in  John  Allspice 
,  and  he  carried 
3gs :  well,  he  put 
nd  of  the  barrel, 
,  so  like  the  real 
1  he  bit  one  tcith 
ng,  until  he  was 
g  joke  with  them 

that  everlasting 
nber  of  senators, 
Everett,  says  he 
Tariff  biU,  but 
speech  on  it ;  1 
says  I,  General 
glad  when  they 
■I-think  it  will 
r  factories  down 
English  a  long 
hear  the  New 
jroud,  I  tell  you 
at  might  stump 
it  ?  says  I,  look- 
tickled.     Why, 
at's  a  cap  sheef 
atent  invention, 
you  might  have 
he  General  gig 
igger,  half  alii 


gator  like  looking  villain  as  he  is.  I  tell  you  what,  Mr. 
Slick,  said  Ihe  Professor,  1  M'ish  with  all  my  heart  the»n  are 
damned  nutmegs  were  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  That  was 
the  first  oath  I  ever  heerd  him  let  slip :  but  he  was  dreadful 
ryled,  and  it  made  me  feel  ugly  too,  for  its  awful  to  hear  a 
minister  swear;  and  the  only  match  1  know  for  it,  is  to  hear 
a  regular  sneezer  of  a  sinner  quote  scripture.  Says  I,  Mr 
Everett,  that's  the  fruit  that  politics  Iwar :  for  my  part  I 
never  seed  a  good  graft  on  it  yet,  that  bore  any  thing  good 
to  eat,  or  easy  to  digest. 

Well,  he  stood  awhile  looking  down  on  the  carpet,  with 
his  hands  behind  him,  quite  taken  up  a  cyphering  in  his  head, 
and  then  he  straightened  himself  up,  and  he  put  his  hand 
upon  his  heart,  just  as  he  used  to  do  in  the  pulpit,  (he  looked 
pretty  I  tell  you)  and  slowly  lifting  his  hand  off  his  breast, 
he  said,  Mr.  Slick,  our  tree  of  liberty  was  a  beautiful  tree — 
a  splendid  tree — it  was  a  sight  to  look  at;  it  was  well  fenced 
and  well  protected,  and  it  grew  so  stately  and  so  handsome, 
that  strangers  came  from  all  parts  of  the  globe  to  see  it. 
They  all  allowed  it  was  the  most  splendid  thing  in  the  world. 
Well,  the  mobs  have  broken  in  and  tore  down  their  fences, 
and  snapped  off  the  branches,  and  scattered  all  the  leaves 
about,  and  it  looks  no  better  than  a  gallows  tree.  I  am 
afeared,  says  he,  I  tremble  to  think  on  it,  but  I  am  afeared 
our  ways  will  no  longer  be  ways  of  pleasantness,  nor  our 
paths,  paths  of  peace ;  I  am,  indeed,  I  vow,  Mr.  Slick.  He 
looked  so  streaked  and  so  chop-fallen,  that  I  felt  kinder  sorry 
for  him ;  I  actilly  thought  he'd  a  boo-hood  right  out. 

So,  to  turn  the  conversation,  says  I,  Professor,  what  are 
great  map  is  that  I  seed  you  a  studyin'  over  when  I  came 
in  ?  Says  he,  its  a  map  of  Nova  Scotia.  ^That,  says  he, 
is  a  valuable  province,  a  real  clever  province ;  we  han't  got 
the  like  on  it,  but  its  most  plagily  in  our  way.  Well,  says 
I,  send  for  Sam  Patch  (that  are  man  was  a  great  diver,  says 
the  Clockmaker,  and  the  last  dive  he  took  was  off  the  falls 
of  Niagara,  and  he  was  never  heerd  of  agin  till  tother  day 
when  Captain  Enoch  Wentworth,  of  the  Susy  Ann  Whaler, 
saw  him  in  the  South  Sea.  Why,  says  Captain  Enoch  to 
him,  why  Sam,,  says  he,  how  on  airth  did  you  get  here  ?  I 
thought  you  was  drovvneJ  at  ihe  Canadian  lines.  Vhy, 
4 


i  t 


\ 


f 


f; 


iV 


9» 


U.'i    4L««.tia  THE   CLOCKHAKEll. 


■  H't 


&ur  K 


says  he,  I  didn^t  get  on  airth  here  at  all,  but  I  came  right 
slap  through  it.  In  that  are  JNiagara  dive,  I  went  so  ever- 
lasting deep,  I  thought  it  was  just  as  short  to  come  up  tother 
side,  so  out  I  came  in  those  parts.  If  I  donH  take  the  shine 
oft"  the  Sea  Serpent,  whc^i  I  get  back  to  Boston,  then  my 
name's  not  Sam  Patch.)  Well,  says  I,  Professor,  send  for 
Sam  Patch,  the  diver,  and  let  him  dive  down  and  stick  a 
torpedo  in  the  bottom  of  the  Province  and  blow  it  up ;  or  if 
that  won't  do,  send  for  some  of  our  steam  tow-boats  from 
our  great  Eastern  cities,  and  tow  it  out  to  sea  ;  you  know 
there's  nothing  our  folks  can't  do,  when  they  once  fairly 
take  hold  on  a  thing  in  airnest. 

>^  Well,  that  made  him  laugh ;  he  seemed  to  forget  about 
the  nutmegs,  and  says  he,  that's  a  bright  scheme,  but  it 
.won't  do;  we  shall  want  the  Province  some  day,  and  I 
guess  we'll  buy  it  of  King  William ;  they  say  he  is  over 
head  and  ears  in  debt,  and  owes  nine  hundred  millions  of 
pounds  starling — we'll  buy  it  as  we  did  Florida.  In  the 
meantime  we  must  have  a  canal  from  Bay  Fundy  to  Bay 
Varte,  fight  through  Cumberland  neck,  by  Shittyack,  for 
our  iishing  vessels  to  go  to  Labradore.  1  guess  you  roust 
ax  leave  first,  said  I.  That's  jist  what  I  was  cyphering 
at,  says  he,  when  you  came  in.  I  believe  we  won't  ax 
them  at  all,  but  jist  fall  to  and  do  it;  ifs  a  road  of  need- 
cessity.  I  once  heard  Chief  Justice  Marshall  of  Baltimore^ 
say.  If  the  people's  highway  is  dangerous — a  man  may 
take  down  a  f^ice — and  pass  through  the  fields  as  a  way 
of  needcessity  ,•  and  we  shall  do  it  on  that  principle,  as 
the  way  round  by  Isle  Sable  is  dangerous.  I  wonder  the 
Novascotians  don't  do  it  for  their  own  convenience.  Said 
f,  it  would'nt  make  a  bad  speculation  that.  The  critters 
don't  know  no  better,  said  he.  Well,  says  I,  the  St.  John's 
folks,  why  don't  they?  for  they  are  pretty  cute  chaps 
them. 

They  remind  me,  says  the  Professor,  of  Jim  Billings. 
You  knew  Jim  Billings,  didn't  you,  Mr.  Slick  ?  Oh  yes» 
said  I,  I  knew  him.  It  was  he  that  made  such  a  talk  by 
shipping  blankets  to  the  West  Indies.  The  same,  says  he. 
Well,  I  went  to  see  him  the  other  day  at  Mrs.  Lecain's 
Boarding  House,  and  sa\s  1,  Billings,  you  have  a  nice  loca 


niV'*-"-"  ■■^'.■' j.i-^iv^y  J- 


''.  JifiVj  V-*i^.V '/hj£   . 


THE  PREACHKR  THAT  WANDERED,  ETC.  39 

tion  here.  A  plagy  sight  too  nice,  said  he.  Marm  Le'cairi 
makes  such  on  eternaitouss  about  her  carpets,  that  1  have 
to  go  along  that  everlasting  long  entry,  and  down  both  stair- 
cases, to  the  street  door  to  spit ;  and  it  keeps  all  the  gen- 
tlemen a  running  with  their  mouths  full  aU  day.  I  had  a 
real  bout  with  a  New  Yorker  this  morning,  I  run  down  to 
the  street  door,  and  afore  I  seed  any  body  a  coming,  I  let  go 
and  I  vow  if  I  didn't  let  a  chap  have  it  all  over  his  white 
waistcoat.  Well,  he  makes  a  grab  at  me,  and  I  shuts  the 
door  right  to  on  his  wrist,  and  hooks  the  door  chain  taught, 
and  leaves  him  there,  and  into  Marm  Lecain's  bed-room 
like  a  shot,  and  hides  behii  i  the  curtain.  Well,  he  roared 
like  a  bull,  till  Wack  Lucretia,  one  of  the  house  helps,  let 
him  go,  and  they  looked  into  all  the  gentlemen's  rooms  and 
found  nobody — so  I  got  out  of  that  are  scrape.  So,  what 
with  Marm  Lecain's  carpets  in  the  house,  and  other  folks*s 
waistccmts  in  the  street,  its  too  nice  a  location  for  me,  I 
guess,  so  I  shall  up  killoch  and  off  to-morrow  to  the  Tree 
mont. 

Now,  says  the  Professor,  the  St.  John's  folks  are  jist  likei 
Billings,  fifty  cents  would  have  bought  him  a  spit  box,  and 
saved  him  all  them  are  journeys  to  the  street  door — and  a 
canal  at  Bay  Varte  would  save  the  St.  John's  folks  a 
voyage  all  round  Nova  Scotia.  Why,  they  can't  get  at 
their  own  backside  settlements,  withottt  a  voyage  most  as 
long  as  one  to  Europe.  If  we  had  that  are  neck  of  land 
in  Cumberland,  toed  have  a  ship  canal  there,  and  a  toipn 
at  each  eend  of  it  as  big  as  Portland.  You  may  talk  of 
Solomon,  said  the  Professor,  but  if  Solomon  in  all  his  glory 
was  not  arrayed  like  a  lily  of  the  field,  neither  was  he  in 
all  his  wisdom  equal  in  knowledge  to  a  real  free  American 
citizen.  Well,  said  I,  Professor,  we  are  a  most  enlightened 
people,  that's  sartain,  but  somehow  I  don't  like  to  hear  you 
run  down  King  Solomon  neither  ;  perhaps  he  warnt  quite 
so  wise  as  Uncle  Sam,  but  then,  said  I,  (drawing  close 
to  the  Professor,  and  whispering  in  his  ear,  for  fear  any 
folks  in  the  bar  room  might  hear  me,)  but  then,  said  I, 
may  be  he  was  every  bit  and  grain  as  honest.  Says  ho, 
Mr.  Slick,  there  are  some  folks  who  think  a  good  deal 
and  say  but  little*  and  they  are  wise  folks  ;  and'  there  are 


t£M, 


\ 


40 


.;tf  ^'%i* 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


V    4 


Others  agin,  who  blart  right  out  whatever  comes  upper- 
most, and  I  guess  they  are  pretty  considerable  superfine 
darned  fools. 

And  with  that  he  turned  right  round,  and  sat  down  to 
his  map,  and  nevci  said  another  word,  lookin'  as  mad  as 
a  hatter  the  whole  blessed  time 


.1  - 


U^'     3:        :     CHAPTER  IX. 


'  ■  ^  ':■     ' ,  ■"/  ^^~''>" 

•J   ■  •     "-       ■  <" 


■    :T 


■      .''      U     ^    ^f.^^ 

t-^   "-  *  "   YA NKEE  EATING  AND  HORSE  FEEDING.     ^^  ^'  "^  "^  * 

Did  you  ever  heer  tell  of  Abernethy,  a  British  doctor  1 
said  the  Clockmaker.  Frequently,  said  I,  he  was  an  emi- 
nent man,  and  had  a  most  extensive  practice.  Well,  I 
reckon  he  was  a  vulgar  critter  that,  he  replied,  he  treated 
the  hon'ble  Alden  Grobble,  secretary  to  our  legation  at 
London,  dreadful  bad  once ;  and  I  guess  if  it  had  been  me 
he  had  used  that  way,  I'd  a  fixed  his  flint  for  him,  so  that 
he'd  think  twice  afore  he'd  fire  such  another  shot  as  that 
are  again.  I'd  make  him  make  tracks,  I  guess,  as  quick 
as  a  dog  does  a  hog  from  a  potatoe  field.  He'd  a  found 
his  way  out  of  the  hole  in  the  fence  a  plagy  sight  quicker 
than  he  came  in,  I  reckon.  ^     -  .i 

,,;:His  manner,  said  I,  was  certainly  rather  unceremonious 
at  times,  but  he  was  so  honest  and  so  straightforward,  that 
no  person  was,  I  believe,  ever  seriously  offended  at  him. 
It  was  his  way.  Then  his  way  was  so  plaguy  rough,  con- 
tinued the  Clockmaker,  that  he'd  been  the  better,  if  it  had 
been  hammered  and  mauled  down  smoother.  I'd  a  levelled 
him  as  flat  as  a  flounder.  Pray  what  was  his  ofl«n<;e  1 
said  I.     Bad  enough  you  may  depend. 

The  hon'ble  Alden  Gobble  was  dyspeptic,  and  he  su& 
fered  great  oneasiness  arter  eatin,  so  he  goes  to  Al)ernelhy 
for  advice.  What's  the  matter  with  vou,  said  the  Doctor  ? 
jjst  that  way,  \/ithout  even  passing  the  time  o'day  wilh 
him — what's  the  matter  with  you  ?  said  he.  Why,  says 
Alden,  I  presume  I  have  the  dyspepsy.     Ah !   said  he,  1 


Ki.,j>.,Vi^, 


a»*.:~*^i^;lMi;^  -^<'  ;>    -"  .i^£.\pfk  l.\  ' 


._\,,-,<;.^:fc;\;!^,>-,«>  ;./!.*;, 


VANKEE  EATIWG  A\D  HORSE  FEEDING. 


41' 


omes  upper- 
ble  superfine 

sat  down  to 
i'  as  mad  as 

;;   ■•f-:-fr.r   s»>'.J: 


*>■ 


NG. 


:f.'  H„;r, 


1«  '?5^    'J' 

•itish  doctor  T 

was  an  emi- 

Ice.    Well,  I 

id,  he  treated 

r  legation  at 

,  had  been  me 

him,  so  that 

shot  as  that 

Bss,  as  quick 

le'd  a  found 

light  quicker 

iceremonious 
brward,  that 
ded  at  him. 
rough,  con- 
|ter,  if  it  had 
'd  a  levelled 
is  offence? 

land  he  sufi 

Al)ernelhy 

the  Doctor  ? 

o'day  wilh 

I  Why,  says 

said  he,  I 


sec  ;  a  Yankee  swallowed  more  dollars  and  cents  than  ho 
can  digest.  I  am  an  Americrr  "itizen,  says  Alden,  with 
great  dignity ;  1  am  Secretary  to  our  Legation  at  the  Court 
of  St.  James.  The  devil  you  are,  said  Abernethy ;  then 
you'll  soon  get  rid  of  your  dyspepsy.  I  don't  see  that  . 
are  inference,  said  Alden ;  it  don't  follow  from  what  you 
predicate  at  all — it  aint  a  natural  consequence,  I  guess, 
that  a  man  should  cease  to  be  ill,  because  he  is  called 
by  the  voice  of  a  free  and  enlightened  people  to  fill  an 
important  office.  (The  truth  is,  you  could  no  more  trap 
Alden  than  you  could  an  Indian.  He  could  see  other 
folks'  trail,  and  made  none  himself:  he  was  a  real  diploma- 
tist, and  I  believe  our  diplomatists  are  allowed  to  be  the 
best  in  the  world.)  But  I  tell  you  it  does  follow,  said  the 
Doctor;  for  in  the  company  you'll  have  to  keep,  you'll  , 
have  to  eat  like  a  Christian. 

It  was  an  everlasting  pity  Alden  contradicted  him,  for 

he  broke  out  like  one  ravin  distracted  mad.    I'll  be  d d,- 

said  he,  if  ever  I  saw  a  Yankee  that  didn't  bolt  his  food- 
whole  like  a  Boa  Constrictor.     How  the  devil  can  yoil  ex*- 
pect  to  digest  food,  that  you  neither  take  the  trouble  to 
dissect,  nor  time  to  masticate?     It's  no  wonder  you  loser 
your  teeth,  for  you  never  use  them ;   nor  your  digestion,* 
for  you  overload  it ;  nor  your  saliva,  for  you  e^xpend  it 
on  the  carpets,  instead  of  your  food.     Its  disgusting,  it*« , 
beastly.     You  Yankees  load  your  stomachs  as  a  Devon** 
shire  man  does  his  cart,  as  full  as  it  can  hold,  and  as  fasti 
as  he  can  pitch  it  with  a  dung  fork,  and  drive  off;  and 
then   you  complain  that  such  a  load  of  compost  is  to(fc 
heavy   for  you.     Dyspepsy,   eh!    infernal   guzzling   you 
mean.     I'll  tell  you  what,  Mr.  Secretary  of  Legation,  take' 
half  the  time  to  eat,  that  you  do  to  drawl  out  your  wordsj* 
chew  your  food  half  as  much  as  you  do  your  fihhy  tobacco,it 
and  you'll  be  well  in  a  month.  j;  4'. 

I  don't  understand  such  language,  said  Alden,  (for  he' 
was  fjiirly  ryled  and  got  his  dander  up,  and  when  he  shows> 
clear  grit,  he  looks  wicked  ugly,  I  tell  you,)  I  don't  under-i 
stand  such  language.  Sir;  I  came  here  to  consult  you  pro«»v 
fessionally,  and  not  to  be •     Don't  understand !    saidV; 

the  Doctor,  why  its  plain  English;  but  heie,  read  my  book* 

4# 


43 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


■«  -A-  A    «    4 


— and  ho  shoved  a  book  into  his  hands  and  left  him  in  on 
instant,  standing  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 

If  the  hon'blc  Alden  Gobble  had  gone  right  away  and 
demanded  his  passports,  and  returned  home  with  the  Lega- 
tion, in  one  of  our  first  class  frigates,  (I  guess  the  English 
would  as  soon  see  pyson  as  one  o'  them  are  Serpents)  to 
Washington,  the  President  and  the  people  would  have  sus- 
tained him  in  it,  I  guess,  until  an  apology  was  offered  for 
the  insult  to  the  nation.  I  guess  if  it  had  been  me,  sai 
Mr.  Slick,  I'd  a  headed  him  afore  he  slipt  out  o'  the  door, 
and  pinned  him  up  agin  the  wall,  and  made  him  bolt  his 
words  agin,  as  quick  as  he  throw'd  'em  up,  for  I  never 
see'd  an  Englishman  that  did'nt  cut  his  words  as  short  as 
he  does  his  horse's  tail,  close  up  to  the  stump. 

It  certainly  was  very  coarse  and  vulgar  language,  and 
I  think,  said  I,  that  your  Secretary  had  just  cause  to  be 
ofTended  at  such  an  ungentlemanlike  attack,  although  he 
showed  his  good  sense  ;:i  treating  it  with  the  contempt  it 
deserved.  It  was  plagy  lucky  for  the  doctor,  I  tell  you, 
that  he  cut  his  stick  as  he  did,  and  made  himself  scarce,  for 
Alden  was  an  ugly  customer,  he'd  a  gin  him  a  proper  scald- 
ing—he'd a  taken  the  brissles  off  his  hide,  as  clean  as  the 
skin  of  a  spring  shote  of  a  pig  killed  at  Christmas. 

The  Clockmaker  was  evidently  excited  by  his  own  story, 
and  to  indemnify  himself  for  these  remarks  on  his  coun- 
trymen, he  indulged  for  some  time  in  ridiculing  the  Nova 
Scotians. 

Do  you  see  that  are  flock  of  colts,  said  he,  (as  we  passed 
one  of  those  beautiful  prairies  that  render  the  vallies  of 
Nova  Scotia  so  verdant  and  so  fertile,)  well,  I  guess  they 
keep  too  much  of  that  are  stock.  I  heerd  an  Indian  one 
day  ax  a  tavern  keeper  for  some  rum ;  why,  Joe  Spaw- 
deeck,  said  he,  I  reckon  you  have  got  too  much  already. 
Too  much  of  any  thing,  said  Joe,  is  not  good,  but  too  much 
rum  is  jist  enough.  I  guess  these  blue-noses  think  so  bout 
their  horses,  they  are  fairly  eat  up  by  them,  out  of  house 
aid  home,  and  they  are  no  good  neither.  They  beant 
giod  saddle  horses,  and  they  beant  good  draft  beasts — they 
are  jist  neither  one  thing  nor  *other.  They  are  like  the 
drink  of  our  Connecticut  folks.     At  mowing  time  they  use 


Lfeifl  • 


'^yf-' 


TAXKEB    EATING    AJtD   HORSE    rEEDIfTG.  48 

molasses  and  water,  nnsty  stufT,  only  fit  to  catch  flies — ll 
spllos  good  water  and  makes  had  l)Cer.  No  wonder  tho 
folks  are  poor.  Look  at  ihem  are  great  dykes  ;  well,  th»7 
all  go  to  feed  horses ;  and  look  at  their  grain  fields  on  tho 
upland  ;  well,  they  are  all  sowed  with  oats  to  feed  horses, 
and  thoy  buy  their  bread  from  us :  so  we  feed  the  assca 
and  they  feed  the  horses.  If  I  had  them  critters  on  tha 
arc  marsh,  on  a  location  of  mine,  Td  jist  take  my  rifie  anl 
shoot  every  one  on  them  ;  the  nasty  yo  necked,  cat  ham- 
med, heavy  headed,  flat  eared,  crooked  shanked,  long 
legged,  narrow  chested,  good  for  nothin  brutes ;  they  aint 
worth  their  keep  one  winter.  I  vow,  I  wish  one  of  these 
blue-noscs,  with  his  go-to-meetin  clothes  on,  coat  tails 
pinned  up  behind  like  a  leather  blind  of  a  shay,  an  old  spur 
on  one  heel,  and  pipe  stuck  through  his  hat  band,  mounted 
on  one  of  these  limber  timbered  critters,  that  moves  its  hind 
legs  like  a  hen  scratchin  gravel,  was  sot  down  in  Broad- 
way, in  New  York,  for  a  sight.  Lord  I  I  think  I  hear  the 
West  Point  cadets  a  larfin  at  him.  Who  brought  that  are 
scarecrow  ot'.  of  standin  corn  and  stuck  him  here?  I  guess 
that  are  citizen  came  from  away  down  east  out  of  the  Notch 
of  the  White  Mountains.  Here  comes  the  Cholera  doctor, 
from  Canada — not  from  Canada,  I  guess,  neither,  for  he 
don^t  look  a»  if  he  had  ever  'been  among  the  rapids.  If 
they  would'nt  poke  fun  at  him  its  a  pity. 

If  they'd  keep  less  horses,  and  mere  sheep,  they'd  have 
food  and  clothing,  too,  instead  of  buying  both.  I  vow  Tvc 
larfed  afore  now  till  I  have  fairly  wet  myself  a  cryin',  to 
see  one  of  these  folks  catch  a  horse  :  may  be  he  has  to  go 
two  or  three  miles  of  an  arrand.  Well,  down  he  goes  on 
the  dyke,  with  a  bridle  in  one  hand,  and  an  old  tin  pan  in 
another,  full  of  oats,  to  catch  his  beast.  First  he  goes  to 
one  flock  of  horses,  and  then  to  another,  to  see  if  he  can 
find  his  own  critter.  At  last  he  gets  sight  on  him,  and  goes 
coilly  up  to  him,  shakin  of  his  oats,  and  a  coaxin  him,  and 
jist  as  he  goes  to  put  his  hand  on  him,  away  he  starts  all 
head  and  tail,  and  the  rest  with  him ;  that  starts  anothc^r 
flock,  and  thev  sot  a  third  oflT,  and  &\  last  every  troop  on 
'em  goes,  as  i.^  OM  Nick  was  arter  them,  till  they  amount 
to  two  or  three  hundred  in  a  drove.    Well,  he  chases  thenj 


vt* 


't 


I 


ili 


i  '[ill 


m 


^ 


% 


44 


'ft  ■«,>  ,■ 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


■\:. 


clear  across  the  Tuntramnr  mnrsh,  seven  miles  good,  over 
ditohos,  creeks,  mire  holes,  and  flag  ponds,  and  then  they 
turn  and  take  a  fair  chase  for  it  back  again  seven  miles 
more.  By  this  time,  I  presume  they  are  all  pretty  cohsid- 
erably  well  tired,  and  Blue  Nose,  he  goes  and  gets  up  all 
the  men  folks  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  catches  liis  beast, 
as  they  do  a  moose  arter  he  is  fairly  run  down  ;  so  he  rimn 
fburtecn  miles,  to  ride  two,  because  he  is  in  a  tarnation 
hurry.  It's  e'en  a  most  equal  to  eatin  soup  with  a  fork, 
when  you  are  short  of  time.  It  puts  me  in  mind  of  catch- 
ing birds  by  sprinkling  salt  on  their  tails ;  its  only  one 
horse  a  man  can  ride  out  of  half  a  dozen,  arter  all.  One 
has  no  shoes,  tother  has  a  colt,  one  arnt  broke,  another  has 
a  sore  back,  while  a  fiflh  is  so  etamal  cunnin,  all  Cumber- 
land could'nt  catch  him,  till  winter  drives  him  up  to  the 

"barn  for  food*-  '»'^>  •'^-^  ■  -  ^  ■«  >..x.  t  ^w  t  ^-t:^  ,*-"•"" " 
Most  of  them  are  dyke  marshes  have  what  they  call 
*  honey  pots*  in  'em  ;  tixat  is  a  deep  hole  all  full  of  squash, 
where  you  can't  find  no  bottom.  Well,  every  how  and 
then,  when  a  feller  goes  to  look  for  his  horse,  he  sees  his 
tail  a  stickin  right  out  an  eend,  from  one  of  these  honey 
pots,  and  wavin  like  a  head  of  broom  corn  ;  and  sometimes 
you  see  two  or  three  trapped  there,  e'en  a  most  smothered, 
everlastin'  tired,  half  swimmin,  half  wadin,  like  rats  in  ji 
molasses  cask.  When  they  find  'em  m  that  are  pickle, 
the^r  go  and  got  ropes,  and  tie  'cm  tight  round  their  necks, 
and  half  hang  'em  to  make  'em  float,  and  then  haul  'em  out. 
Awful  looking  critters  they  be,  you  may  depend,  when  they 
do  come  out ;  for  all  the  world  like  half  drowned  kittens — 
all  slinkey  slimey — with  their  great  long  tails  ghied  up  like 
a  swab  of  oakum  dipped  in  tar.  If  they  don't  l6ok  foolish' 
its  a  pity!  Well,  they  have  to  nurse  these  critters  all 
winter,  with  hot  mashf3s,  warm  covering,  and  what  not,  and 
when  spring  comes,  tlyy  mostly  die,  and  if  they  don't  they 
are  never  no  good  arter.  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  half  the 
horses  in  the  country  were  barr^'lled  up  in  these  hero 
"  honey  pots,"  and  thc>n  there'd  b/)  near  about  one  half  too 

'  many  left  for  pr<jfit.  Jist  look  at  one  of  these  barn  yards 
in  the  spring — half  a  dozen  half-starved  colts,  with  their 
hair  looking  a  thousand  ways  for  Sunday,  and  their  coats 


ji^.iJEi^ii  _,^  ._ 


..&%-s , 


THE    ROAD    TO   A    WOMAN  8   HEART. 


45 


hnngin   in   tatters,  and   half  a  dozen  good  for  nothin  old 
horm^s,  u  crowdin  out  the  cows  and  sheep. 

Con  you  wonder  thai  people  who  keep  tuck  an  unpro- 
fitable stock,  come  out  of  the  tmall  eend  of  the  horn  in  the 

long  run?  V^V';  .'»V'''*-*»<?''*i  -^■^•^/>'»^"' 


; 


.rJ^^t't^^  .CHAPTER  X.  '^^^^^^^^ 


THE  ROAD  TO  A  WOMAN'S  HEART— THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

As  we  approached  the  Inn  at  Amherst,  the  Clockmaker 
grew  uneasy.  Its  pretty  well  on  in  the  evening,  I  guess, 
said  he,  and  Marm  Pugwash  is  as  onsartin  in  her  temper 
as  a  mornin  in  April ;  its  all  suishine  or  all  clouds  with 
her,  and  if  she's  in  one  of  her  tantrums,  she'll  stretch  out 
her  neck  and  hiss,  like  a  goose  with  a  flock  of  goslins. 
I  wonder  what  on  airth  Pugwash  was  a  thinkin  on,  when 
he  signed  articles  of  partnership  with  that  are  woman ; 
she's  not  a  bad  lookin  piece  of  furniture  neither,  and  its  a 
proper  pity  sich  a  clever  woman  should  carry  such  a  stifi 
upper  lip — she  reminds  me  of  our  old  minister  Joshua 
Hopewell's  apple  trees. 

The  old  minister  had  an  orchard  of  most  particular  good 
fruit,  for  he  was  a  grvat  hand  at  buddin,  graftin,  and  what 
not,  and  the  orchard  (it  was  on  the  south  side  of  the  house) 
stretched  right  u)  to  the  road.  Well,  there  were  some 
trees  hung  over  the  fence,  I  never  seed  such  bearers,  the 
apples  hung  in  tvpcs,  for  all  the  world  like  strings  of  onions, 
and  the  fruit  was  beautiful.  Nobody  touched  the  minister's 
apples,  and  when  other  folks  lost  theirn  from  the  W-  s,  his'n 
always  hung  tliere  like  bait  to  a  hook,  but  there  never  was 
so  much  as  a  nibble  at  'em.  So  I  said  to  him  one  day, 
Minister,  said  I,  how  on  airth  do  you  manage  to  keep  your 
fruit  that's  so  exposed,  when  no  one  else  cant  do  it  nohow. 
Why,  saya  he,  they  are  dreadful  pretty  fruit,  ant  they  ?  I 
guess,  said  I,  there  ant  the  like  on  'em  in  all  Connecticut. 
Well,  says  he.  I'll  tell  you  the  secret,  but  you  need'iit  lei 


V     . 


46 


.4-^;f-      THB  CLOCKMAKE!i;-*<\^' fe  i" 


on  to  no  one  about  it.    That  are  row  next  the  fence,  I 

f  rafted  it  myself,  I  took  great  pains  to  get  the  right  kind, 
d^Dt  clean  up  to  Roxberry  and  away  down  to  Squaw-neck 
Creek,  (I  was  afeared  he  was  a  goin  to  give  me  day  and 
date  for  every  graft,  being  a  terrible  long-winded  man  in 
his  stories,)  so  suys  I,  I  know  that,  minister,  but  how  do 
you  preserve  them  1  Why,  I  was  a  goin  to  tell  you,  said 
he,  when  you  stopped  me.  That  are  outward  row  I 
grafted  myself  with  the  choicest  kir.d  I  could  find,  and  I 
succeeded.  They  are  beautiful,  but  so  etarnal  sour,  no 
human  soul  can  eat  them.  Well,  the  boys  think  the  old 
minister's  grafUn  lias  all  succeeded  about  as  well  as  that 
row,  and  they  s^rch  no  farther.  They  snicker  at  my 
grafting  and  I  laugh  in  my  sleeve,  I  guess,  at  their  penetra- 
tion, (i^^'i'-i'^-w^i  'ff:-:'H»>':-^''^»>f'-7l/!:v','r.i:J>    ^^«::^V,'''?5?:Jl 

Now,  Marm  PugWfti^  is  like  the  Minister's  apples,  very 
temptin  fruit  to  look  at,  but  desperate  sour.  If  Pugwash 
had  a  watery  mouth  when  he  married,  I  guess  its  pretty 
puckary  by  this  time.  However,  if  she  goes  to  act  ugly, 
I'll  give  her'  a  doae  u "  *  soft  sawder,*  that  will  take  the 
frown  out  of  her  fr<Haiispiece,  and  make  her  dial-plate  as 
smooth  as  a  lick  of  copal  varnish.  Its  a  pity  she's  such 
a  kickin'  devil,  tooy  foar  she  has  good  points — good  eye — 
good  foot — neat  pastern— ^fine  chest — a  clean  set  of  limbs, 

and  carries  a  good .     But  here  we  are,  now  you'll  see 

what  *  soft  sawder'  will  do. 

When  we  entered  the  house,  the  travellers'  room  was  all 
in  darkness,  and  on  opening  the  opposite  door  into  the 
sitting  room,  we  found  the  female  part  of  the  family  extin- 
guishing the  fire  for  the  night.  Mrs.  Pugwash  had  a  broom 
in  her  hand,  and  was  in  the  act  (the  last  act  of  female 
houstewifery)  of  sweeping  the  hearth.  The  strong  flicker- 
ing light  of  the  fire,  as  it  fell  upon  her  tail  fine  figure  and 
beautiful  face,  revealed  a  creature  worthy  of  the  Clock- 
maker's  comments. 

Good  evening,  Marm,  said  Mr.  Slick,  how  do  you  do 
and  how's  Mr.  Pugwash?     He,  said  she,  why  he's  been 
abed  this  hour,  you  don't  expect  to  disturb  him  this  time  of 
night  I  hope.     Oh  no,  said  Mr.  Slick,  certainly  not,  and  1 
am  sorry  to  have  disturbed  you.  but  we  got  detained  longer 


-':^.   -.Ul  tkL-- ::  ^  .    J 


THE  ROAD  TO  A  WOMAIT  8   HEART. 


47 


tliun  we  expected  ;  I  am  sorry  that .     So  arri  f,  said 

she,  hut  it'  Mr.  Pugwash  will  keep  an  Inn  when  he  has  no 
occasion  to,  his*  family  caut  expect  no  rest. 

Here  the  Clockmaker,  seeing  the  storm  gatherings  stooped 
down  suddenly,  and  stai-ing  intently,  held  out  his  liand  an 
exclaimed,  Well,  if  that  aint  a  beautiful  child— conie  here, 
ray  little  man,  and  shake  hands  along  with  me-~well,  I 
declare,  if  that  are  little  feller  aint  the  finest  child  I  eve 
seed — what,  not  abed  yet  ?  ah  you  K^ue,  where  did  yo 
get  them  are  pretty  rosy  cheeks ;  stole  them  from  mamma, 
eh  1  Well,  I  wish  my  old  nK>tber  could  see  that  child,  it  is 
such  a  treat.  In  our  country,  said  he,  turning  to  me,  the 
children  are  all  as  pale  as  chalk»  or  as  yaller  as  an  orange. 
Lord,  that  are  little  feller  would  be  a  show  in  our  country 
—come  to  me,  my  man.  Here  the  *  soft  sawder'  began  to 
operate.  Mrs.  Pugwash  said  in  a  milder  tone  than  we  had 
yet  he  ^,  *  Go  my  dear  to  the  gentleman — go  dear.'  Mr. 
Slick  I  ^sed  him,  asked  him  if  he  would  go  to  the  States 
along  with  him,  told  \um  all  the  little  girls  there  would  ilall 
in  love  with  him,  for  they  dM'ht  see  such  a  beautiful  face 
once  in  a  month  of  Sundays.  BUick  eyes — let  me  see— ah 
mamma's  eyes  too,  and  black  hair  also ;  aa  I  am  alive,  why 
you  are  mamma's  own  boy,  the  very  image  of  mamma, 
bo  be  seated,  gentlemen,  said  Mrs.  Pugwash — Sally,  maik^ 
a  fire  in  the  next  room.  She  ought  to>  be  proud  of  you^  he 
continued.  Well,  if  I  live  to  retumi  here,  I  must  paint  your 
face,  and  have  it  put  on  my  clocks,  and  our  foUos  will  buy 
the  clocks  for  the  sake  of  the  face.^  Did  you;  ever  see;,  said 
he,  again  addressing  me,  such  a  likeness  between  one 
human  and  another,  as  between  this  beautiful  little  boy  and 
his  mother  1  I  am  sure  yoa  have  h»r!  no  supper,  said  Mrs. 
Pugwash  to  me ;  you  must  be  himgry  and  weary,  too — I 
will  get  you  a  cup  of  tea.  I  am  sorry  to-  give  you  so  much 
trouble,  said  I.  Not  the  least  troqile  in  the  world,  sha 
replied,  on  the  contrary  a  pleasurert^i^  i^i.^ftj^w-^^x^  <vS  : 

We  were  then  shown  into  the  next  room,  where  the  fire 
was  now  blazing  up,  but  Mr.  Slick  protested  he  could  not 
proceed  without  the  little  boy,  and  lingered  behind  to  ascer- 
tam  his  age,  and  concluded  by  asking  the  child  if  he  hud 
any  aunts  that  looked  like  mamma.       *a 


— J 


mf- 


f ' 


..•r^l'—if^ts:.  .:l.>r^:.:*•.■V:.i^.^ 


48 


.iiJ^M  firtj"  CLdcKMAtcM;'    -^Z 


i 

n 


f 


As  the  door  closed,  Mr.  Slick  said,  its  a  pity  she  douH 
go  well  in  gear.  The  difficulty  with  those  critters  is  to  git 
them  to  start,  arter  that  there  is  no  trouble  with  them  if  you 
don't  check  'em  too  short.  If  you  do  they'll  stop  again, 
run  back  and  kick  like  mad,  and  then  Old  Nick  himself 
would'nt  start  'em.  Pugwash,  I  guess,  don't  understand 
the  natur  of  the  critter;  she'll  never  go  kind  in  harness  for 
him.  When  I  see  a  child,  said  the  Clockmaker,  I  always 
feel  safe  with  these  women  folk  ;  for  I  have  always  found 
that  the  road  to  a  woman's  heart  lies  through  her  child.  <v 

You  seem,  said  I,  to  understand  the  female  heart  so  well, 
I  make  no  doubt  you  are  a  general  favourite  among  the  fair 
sex.  Any  man,  he  replied,  that  understands  horses,  has  a 
pretty  considerable  fair  knowledge  of  women,  for  they  are 
jist  alike  in  temper,  and  require  the  very  identical  same 
treatment.  Incoura^e  the  timid  ones,  be  gentle  and  steady 
with  the  fractious,  but  lather  the  sulky  ones  like  blazes. 

People  talk  an  everlastin  sight  of  nonsense  about  wine, 
women,  and  horses.  I've  bought  and  sold  'em  all,  I've 
traded  in  aU  of  them,  and  I  tell  you,  there  aint  one  in  a 
thousand  that  knows  a  grain  about  either  on  'em.  You 
hear  folks  say  Oh,  such  a  man  is  an  ugly  grained  critter, 
he'll  break  his  wife's  heart ;  jist  as  if  a  woman's  heart  was 
as  brittle  as  a  pipe  stalk.  The  female  heart,  as  far  as  my 
experience  goes,  is  jist  like  a  new  India  Rubber  shoe ;  you 
may  pull  and  pull  at  it  till  it  stretches  out  a  yard  long,  and 
then  let  go,  and  it  will  fly  right  back  to  its  old  shape. 
Their  hearts  are  made  of  stout  leather,  I  tell  you ;  there's 
a  plaguy  sight  of  wear  in  'em. 

I  never  knowed  but  one  case  of  a  broken  heart,  and 
that  was  in  tother  sex,  one  Washington  Banks.  He  was 
a  sneezer.  He  was  tall  enough  to  spit  down  on  the  heads 
of  your  grenadiers,  and  near  about  high  enough  to  wade 
across  Charlestown  River,  and  as  strong  as  a  tow  boat. 
I  guess  he  w  IS  somewhat  less  than  a  foot  longer  than  the 
moral  law  and  catechism  too.  He  was  a  perfect  pictur  of 
a  man ;  you  could'nt  fait  him  in  no  particular ;  he  was  so 
just  a  made  critter ;  folks  used  to  run  to  the  winder  when 
he  passed,  and  say  there  goes  Washington  Banks,  beant  he 
lovely?     I  do   believe  there  was'nt  a  gall  in  the  Lowell 


!ia.:!v;v^ii,^:;i 


..,..■  ifei-V'^-^^i-- 


.  •f.^i/i^- .«S*,  .t. 


THE  ROAD  TO  A  WOMAN'S  HEART. 


% 


ifd  long,  and 


factories,  that  warnt  in  love  with  him.  Sometimes,  at 
intermission,  on  Sabbath  days,  when  they  all  came  out 
together,  (an  amazin  hansom  sight  too,  near  about  a  whole 
coi/gregation  of  young  galls)  Banks  used  to  say,  '  I  vow, 
young  ladies,  I  wish  I  had  five  hundred  arms  to  reciprocate 
one  w  ith  each  of  you ;  but  I  reckon  I  have  a  heart  big 
enough  for  you  all ;  it's  a  whapper,  you  may  depend, 
and  every  mite  and  morsel  of  it  at  your  service.'  Well, 
now  do  you  act,  Mr.  Banks,  half  a  thousand  little  clipper 
clapper  tongues  would  say,  all  at  the  same  time,  and  their 
dear  little  eyes  sparklin,  like  so  many  stars  twinklin  of  a 
frosty  night. 

Well,  when  I  last  see'd  him,  he  was  all  skin  and  bone, 
like  a  horse  turned  out  to  die.  He  was  teetotally  defteshed, 
a  mere  walkin  skeleton.  I  am  dreadful  sorry,  says  I,  to 
see  you.  Banks,  lookin  so  peecked ;  why  you  look  like  a 
sick  turkey  hen,  all  legs ;  what  on  airth  ails  you  1  I  am 
dyin,  says  he,  of  a  broken  heart.  What,  says  I,  have  the 
galls  bf*r^r>  iiltin  you  ?  No,  no,  says  he,  I  beant  such  a  fool 
as  thai.  .7  '.  Well,  says  I,  have  you  made  a  bad  specu- 
lation 1  '-'  ,  £iays  he,  shakin  his  head,  I  hope  I  have  too 
much  clear  grit  in  me  to  take  on  so  bad  for  that.  What 
under  the  sun,  is  it,  then  ?  said  I.  Why,  says  he,  I  made 
a  bet  the  fore  part  of  summer  with  Leflenant  Oby  Knowles, 
that  I  could  <ihoulder  the  best  bower  of  the  Constitution 
frigate.  I  won  my  bet,  but  the  Anchor  was  ao  etamal  heavy 
it  broke  my  heart.  Sure  enough  he  did  die  that  very  tall, 
and  he  was  the  only  instac  .  T  ever'  heerd  tell  of  a  broken 
heart. 


^imA-'Ci:y^,  .;'':?-  1 4^:: 


-    *.Vr 


ft 


b;-'- ;.^'"     >    •''  ,:""   ,".J' ji-.i"..^^  ^  '-  '  ^.:'i\t  .     ■  -■' .■^M  .^ii-J  ;f??:'^-#     - '•, 


•^VB  — 


»,■«""■   -■-•"ISET'S 


AO 


.  --A.-  ■? 


THE   CLOCKIUKER. 


J*  I!:   C  CHAPl'ER  XI. 


« 


I' 


i 


(1 


CUMBERLAND  OYSTERS  PRODUCE  MELANCHOLY  FOR&  ■ 

30DINO& 

»      t ,  ■     ■    ••     -  -.ij  ■     ^ 

Thb  *  tojfi  tatoder*  of  the  Clockmaker  !iad  operate 
effectually  on  the  beauty  of  Amherst,  our  lovely  hostess  of 
PMgwash  s  Inn :  indeed,  I  am  inclined  to  think  with  Mr. 
Slick,  that  *  the  road  to  a  woman's  heart  lies  through  her 
child,'  from  the  efiect  produced  upon  her  by  the  praises  be- 
stowed on  her  infant  boy. 

I  was  musing  on  this  feminine  susceptibility  to  flattery, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  Mrs.  Pugwash  entered  dressed 
in  her  sweetest  smiles  and  her  best  cap,  an  auxiliary  by  no 
means  required  by  her  charms,  which,  like  an  Italian  sky, 
when  unclouded,  are  unrivalled  in  splendour.  Approaching 
me,  she  said,  with  an  irresietible  smile.  Would  you  like 
Mr. ,  (hlere  there  was  a  pause,  a  hiatus,  evidently  in- 
tended for  me  to  fill  up  with  my  name ;  but  that  no  person 
knows,  nor  do  I  intend  they  shall ;  at  Medley's  Hotel,  in 
Halifax,  I  was  known  as  the  stranger  in  No.  1.  The  at- 
tention that  Incognito  procured  for  me,  the  importance  it 
gave  me  in  the  eyes  of  the  master  of  the  house,  its  lodgers 
and  servants,  is  indescribable.  It  is  only  great  people  who 
travel  incog.  State  travelling  is  inconvenient  and  slow ; 
the  constant  weight  of  form  and  etiquette  oppresses  at  once 
the  strength  and  the  spirits.  It  is  pleasant  to  travel  unob- 
served, to  stand  at  ease,  or  exchange  the  full  suit  for  the 
undress  coat  and  fatigue  jacket.  Wherever,  too,  there  is 
mystery  there  is  importance ;  there  is  no  knowing  for  whom 
1  may  be  mistaken — but  let  me  once  give  my  humble  cog- 
nomen and  occupation,  and  I  sink  immediately  to  my  own 
level,  to  plebeian  station  and  a  vulgar  name ;  not  even  my 
beautiful  hostess,  nor  my  inquisitive  friend,  the  Clockmaker, 
who  calls  me  '  Squire,'  shall  extract  that  secret !)     Would 

you  like.  Mi. ,  Indeed  I  would,  says  I,  Mrs.  Pugwash  ; 

pray  be  seated,  and  tell  me  what  it  is.     Would  you  like  a 


i--i,_»s*,!t  .,^-.1  ... 


:-':fa  ■.^....■■^fi^^iy.. 


l!M^'Xj'i:-i^^ 


a- 


I ' 


CUMBERLAND  OYSTERS,   ETC. 


61 


dish  of  superior  Shittyacks  for  supper?  Indord  1  would, 
said  i,  agin  laughing;  but  pray  tell  me  what  it  is?  Laws 
me !  said  she  with  a  stare,  where  have  you  been  all  your 
days,  that  you  never  heard  of  our  Shittyack  Oysters?  I 
thought  every  body  had  hecrd  of  them.  I  beg  pardon,  sai<l 
I,  but  1  understood  at  Halifax,  that  the  only  Oysters  in  this 
part  of  the  world  were  found  on  the  shores  of  Prince  Edward 
Island.  Oh  I  dear  no,  said  our  hostess,  they  are  tound  all 
along  the  uoast  from  Shittyack,  through  Bay  of  Vartes, 
away  to  Ramshag.  The  latter  we  seldom  get,  though  the 
best ;  there  is  no  regular  conveyance,  and  when  they  do 
come,  they  are  generally  shelled  and  in  kegs,  and  rever  in 
good  order.  I  have  not  had  a  real  good  Ramshag  in  my 
house  these  two  years,  since  Governor  Maitland  was  here ; 
he  was  amazing  fond  of  them,  and  Lawyer  Talkemdeaf 
sent  his  carriage  there  on  purpose  to  procure  them  fresh 
for  him.  Now  we  can't  get  them^  but  we  have  the  Shitty- 
acks in  perfection ;  say  the  word  and  they  shall  be  served 
up  immedia,tely. 

A  good  dis|h  and  an  unexpected  dish  is  most  acceptable, 
and  certainly  my  American  friend  and  myself  did  ample 
justice  to  the  oysters,  which,  if  they  had  not  so  classical 
a  name,  have  quite  as  good  a  flavour  as  their  far-famed 
brethren  of  Milton.  Mr.  Slick  eat  so  heartily,  that  when 
he  resumed  his  conversation,  he  indulged  in  the  most  me- 
lancholy forebodings. 

Did  you  see  that  are  nigger,  said  he,  that  removed  thf 
oyster  shells  ?  well  he's  one  of  our  Chesapickers,  one  of 
General  Cuffy's  slaves.  I  wish  Admiral  Cockburn  had  a 
taken  them  all  off  our  hands  at  the  same  rate.  We  made 
a  pretty  good  sale  of  them  are  black  cattle,  I  guess,  to  the 
British  ;  I  wish  we  were  well  rid  of  'em  all.  Tlie  Blacks 
and  the  Whites  in  the  States  show  their  teeth  and  snarl, 
they  are  jist  ready  to  fell  to.  The  Protestants  and  CathO' 
lies  begin  to  lay  back  their  ears,  and  turn  tail  for  kickin. 
The  Abolitionists  and  Planters  are  at  it  like  two  bulls  in  a 
pastur.  Mob-Late  and  Lynch-Laio  are  working  like  yeast 
in  a  barrel,  and  frothing  at  the  bunghole.  Nullification 
and  Tari^  are  like  a  charcoal  pit,  all  covered  up,  but 
burning  inside,  and  sending  out  smoke  at  every  crack, 


I 


1  I 

II 


? 


53 


THE  CLOCKMAKBR. 


H-"'-"' 


enough  to  stifle  r  horse.  Generv^  Government  and  State 
Government  every  now  and  then  t-quare  off  and  spar,  and 
the  lirst  blow  given  will  bring  a  genuine  set-to.  Surplus 
Revenue  is  another  bone  of  contention  ;  like  a  shin  of  beef 
thrown  among  a  pack  of  dogs,  it  will  set  the  whole  on  'enrt 
by  t^^e  ears. 

You  have  heerd  tell  of  cotton  rags  dipt  in  turpentine, 
havu't  you,  how  they  produce  combustion  ?  Well,  I  guess 
we  have  the  elements  of  spontaneous  combustion  among 
us  in  abundance ;  when  it  does  break  out,  if  you  don't 
see  an  eruption  of  human  gore  worse  than  Btna  lava,  then 
I'm  mistaken.  There'll  be  the  very  devil  to  pay,  ihut's  a 
fact.  I  expect  the  blacks  will  butcher  the  Southern  whites, 
and  the  Northerners  will  have  to  turn  out  and  butcher 
them  again  ;  and  all  this  shoot,  hang,  cut,  stab,  and  bum 
business  will  sweeten  our  folks'  temper,  as  raw  meat  does 
that  of  a  dog — it  fairly  makes  me  sick  to  think  on  it.  The 
explosion  may  clear  the  air  again,  and  all  be  tranquil  once 
more,  but  its  an  even  chance  if  it  don't  leave  us  the  three 
steam-boat  Oj^tions,  to  be  blown  sky  high,  to  be  scalded  to 
death,  or  drowned. 

If  this  sad  picture  you  have  drawn  be  indeed  true  to  na- 
ture, how  does  your  country,  said  I,  appear  so  attractive 
as  to  draw  to  it  so  large  a  portion  of  our  population  ?  It 
tante  its  attraction,  said  the  Clockmaker ;  its  nothing  but 
its  power  of  suction ;  it  is  a  great  whirlpool — a  great  vor- 
tex— it  drags  all  the  straw  and  chips,  and  floating  sticks, 
drifl;  wood  and  trash  into  it.  The  small  crafts  are  sucked 
in,  and  whirl  round  and  round  like  a  squirrel  in  the  cage — 
they'll  never  come  out.  Bigger  ones  pass  through  at  cer- 
tain times  of  tide,  and  can  come  in  and  out  with  good  pi- 
lotage, as  they  do  at  Hell  Gate  up  the  Souni. 

You  astonish  me,  said  I,  beyond  measure ;  both  you» 
previous  conversations  with  me,  and  the  concurrent  testi 
mony  of  all  my  friends  who  have  visited  the  States,  give  » 
different  view  of  it.  Your  friends/  said  the  Clockmaker 
with  such  a  tone  of  ineffable  contempt,  that  I  felt  a  strong 
inclination  to  knock  him  down  for  his  insolence — your 
friends  !  Ensigns  and  leftenants,  I  guess,  from  the  British 
maK'hin  regiments  in   the  Colonies,  that  run  over  five 


CUMBSft'/^VO  OrSTBRS,  ETC. 


53 


true  to  na- 


thousand  miles  of  country  in  five  weeks,  on  leave  of  ab- 
sence, and  then  return,  looking  as  wise  as  the  monkey 
that  had  seen  the  world.     When  they  get  back  they  are  so 
chock  full  of  knowledge  of  the  Yankees,  that  it  runs  over 
of  itself,  like  a  hogshead  of  molasses,  rolled  about  in  hot 
weather — a  white  froth  and  scurti  bubbles  out  of  the  bung ; 
wishywashy  trash  they  call  tours,  sketches,  travels,  letters,- 
and  what  not ;  vapid  stuff,  jist  sweet  enough  to  catch  flies, 
cockroaches,  and  hsdf-fledged  galls.     It  puts  me  in  mind 
of  my  French.     I  larnt  French  at  night  school  one  winter 
of  our  minister  Joshua  Hopewell  (he  was  the  most  lamed 
man  of  the  age,  for  he  taught  himself  een  amost  every 
language  in  Europe;   well,  next  spring,  when  I  went  t^ 
Boston  I  met  a  Frenchman,  and  I  began  to  jabber  away 
French  to  him:  *  Polly  woes  a  french  shay,'  says  I.     I 
don't  understand  Yankee  yet,  says  he.     You  don't  under- 
stand !  says  I,  why  ita  French.     I  guess  you  didn't  expect 
to  hear  such  good  French,  did  you,  away  down  east  here  t 
but  we  speak  it  real  well,  and  its  generally  allowed  we 
speak  English,  too*  better  than  the  British.     Oh,  says  he, 
you  one  very  droll  Yankee,  dat  very  good  joke,  Sare  ;  you 
talk  Indian  and  call  it  French.     But,  says  I,  Mister  Mount- 
shear,  it  is  French,  I  vow;  real  merchantable,  without 
wainy  edge  or  shakes — all  clear  stuff;  it  will  pass  survey 
in  any  market — its  ready  stuck  and  seasoned.     Oh,  very 
like,  says  he,  bowin  as  polite  as  a  black  gaiter  at  New 
OvleenSi  very  like,  only  I  never  heerd  it  afore ;  oh,  very 
good  French  dat — clear  stuffs  no  doubt,  but  I  no  under- 
stand— its  all  my  fault,  I  dare  say,  Sare. 

Thinks  I  to  myself,  a  nod  is  as  good  as  a  winx  to  a  blind 
horse,  I  see,  how  the  cat  jumps — Minister  knows  so  many 
languages  he  hant  been  particular  enough  to  keep' 'em  in 
separate  parcels,  and  mark  'em  on  the  back,  and  they've 
got  mixed,  and  sure  enough  I  found  my  French  was  so 
overrun  with  other  sorts,  that  it  was  better  to  lose  the  whole 
crop  than  to  go  to  weedin,  for  as  fast  as  I  pulled  up  any 
strange  seedlin,  it  would  grow  right  up  agin  as  quick  as 
wink,  if  there  was  the  least  bit  of  root  in  the  work  lefl  in 
the  ground,  so  I  lefl  it  all  to  rot  on  the  field. 
,  v      5*  .  ,-  V.  ..,  ,/,-,,     ■     •■  ;'■'■  ■'     '  -  >■■. ; 


"»..    iJ'.'Hnr  i-.,.      -il*'-'^.'w-;- 


ti>^J  Jt  ■  " -*i;iJ. 


54 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


There  is  no  way  so  good  to  lam  French  as  lo  live  among 
*pm,  and  if  you  want  to  understand  us^  you  must  live  among 
ns,  too  ;  your  Hails,  Hamiltans,  and  De  Rouses,  and  such 
critters,  what  can  they  know  of  us  ?  Can  a  chap  catch  a 
likeness  flying  along  the  railroad  ?  can  he  even  see  the 
featurs  ?  Old  Admiral  Anson  once  axed  one  of  our  folks 
afore  our  glorious  Revolution,  (if  the  British  had  a  known 
us  a  little  grain  better  at  that  time,  they  wouldn't  have  got 
whipped  like  a  sack  as  they  did  then)  where  he  come  from  1 
From  the  Chesapeeke,  said  he.  Aye,  aye,  said  the  Ad- 
miral, from  the  West  Indies.  I  guess,  said  the  Southaner, 
you  may  have  been  clean  round  the  world.  Admiral,  but 
'"you  have  been  plaguy  little  in  it,  not  to  know  better  nor 
that. 

I  shot  a  wild  goose  at  River  Philip  last  year,  v/ith  the 
rice  of  Varginey  fresh  in  his  crop  ;  he  must  have  cracked 
on  near  about  as  fast  as  them  other  geese,  the  British 
travellers.  Which  know'd  the  most  of  the  country  they 
passed  over,  do  you  suppose  ?  I  guess  it  was  much  of  a 
muchness  -—.near  about  six  of  one,  and  half  a  dozen  of 
tother ;  two  eyes  aint  much  better  than  one,  if  they  are 
both  blind. 

No,  if  you  want  to  know  all  about  us  and  the  blue  noses 
(a  pretty  considerable  share  of  Yankee  blood  in  them  too,  I 
tell  you ;  the  old  stock  comes  from  New  England,  and  the 
breed  is  tolerable  pure  yet,  near  about  one  half  apple  sarce, 
and  tother  half  molasses,  -all  except  to  the  Easterd,  where 
there  is  a  cross  of  the  Scotch,)  jist  ax  me  and  I'll  tell  you 
candidly.  I'm  not  one  of  them  that  can't  see  no  good 
points  in  my  neighbor's  critter,  and  no  bad  ones  in  my 
own ;  I've  seen  too  much  of  the  world  for  that  I  guess. 
Indeed,  in  a  general  way,  I  praise  '^♦her  folks'  beasts,  and 
keep  dark  about  my  own.  Says  I,  when  I  meet  Blue  Noses 
mounted,  that's  a  real  smart  horse  of  yourn,  put  him  out,  I 
guess  he'll  trot  like  mad.  Well,  he  lets  him  have  the  spur, 
and  the  critter  does  his  best,  and  then  I  pass  him  like  a 
ktreak  of  lightning  with  mine.  The  feller  looks  all  taken 
back  at  that.  Why,  says  he,  that's  a  real  clipper  of 
yo"rn,  I  vow.  Middlin,  says  I,  (quite  cool,  as  if  I  had 
he.p'A  that  are  same  thing  a  thousand  times,)  he's  good 
enough  for  ma;  jist  a  fair  trotter,  and  nothing  to  brag  of. 


■;ii*t*-.v=f*^-- '  -'■■^•■A'^'^i^^-  'itfiS-ri^T-^t'^i 


tu 


THE   AMERICAN    EAGLE. 


50    t 


That  goes  near  about  as  far  agin  in  a  general  way,  as  a 
crackin  and  a  boastin  does.  Never  tell  folits  you  can  go 
ahead  on  'cm,  but  do  it ;  it  spares  a  great  deal  of  talk,  and 
helps  them  to  save  their  breath  to  cool  their  broth. 

No,  if  you  want  to  know  the  inns  and  the  outs  of  the 
V'ankees— I've  wintered  them  and  summered  them ;  I  know 
all  their  points,  shape,  make,  and  breed  ;  Pve  tried  *em 
alongside  of  other  folks,  and  I  know  where  they  fall  short, 
where  they  mate  'em,  and  where  they  have  the  advantage, 
about  as  well  as  some  who  think  they  know  a  plagy  sight 
more.  It  tante  them  that  stare  the  most,  that  see  the  best 
always,  I  guess.  Our  folks  have  their  faults,  and  I  know 
them,  (I  wariit  bom  blind  I  reckon,)  but  your  friends,  the 
tour  writers,  are  a  little  grain  too  hard  on  us.  Our  old 
nigger  wench  had  several  dirty,  ugly  lookin  children,  and 
was  proper  cross  to  'em.  Mother  used  to  say,  Junoj  its 
better  never  to  ttipe  a  child's  nose  at  all^  I  guessy  than  to 


wring  it  off. 


.1     *«  r 


.  '.jf  "/  r'iiii  '•;- 


.^•■;>  a.y     i.W  •**!»„ 


»I   »<■• 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  AMERICAN  EAGLE. 


'■■--'a 


JisT  look  out  of  the  door,  said  the  Clockmaker,  and  see 
M'hat  a  beautiful  night  it  is,  how  calm,  how  still,  how  clear 
it  is,  beant  it  lovely  ? — I  like  to  look  up  at  them  are  stars, 
when  1  am  away  from  home,  they  put  me  in  mind  of  our 
national  flag,  and  it  is  generally  allowed  to  be  the  first  flag 
in  the  univarse  now.  The  British  can  whip  all  the  world, 
and  we  can  whip  the  British.  Its  near  about  the  prettiest 
sight  I  know  of,  is  one  of  our  first  class  frigates,  manned 
with  our  free  and  enlightened  citizens,  all  ready  for  sea ;  it 
is  like  the  great  American  Eagle,  on  its  perch,  balancing 
itself  for  a  start  on  the  broad  expanse  of  blue  sky,  afeared 
of  notbia  of  its  kind,  and  president  of  all  it  surveys.  It  was 
a  good  emblem  that  we  chose,  warn't  it  ? 

There  was  no  evadinff  so  directj  and  at  the  same  time, 
BO  conceited  an  appeal  as  this.     Certainly  said  I,  the 


■%^-. 


'^i^-'A.A.i.  t.    '.  "*:«J3rf*lV,-.! 


SB 


IHB   CLOCKMAKER. 


emblem  wvb  well  rhoson.  1  was  particularly  struck  with 
it  on  obacrviug  the  di'vic  c  on  your  naval  buttons  during  the 
last  war — an  eagle  with  an  anchor  in  its  claws.  That  was 
a  natural  idea,  taken  from  an  ordinary  occurrence:  a  bird 
purloining  the  anchor  of  a  frigate — an  article  so  useful  and 
necessary  for  the  food  of  its  young.  It  was  well  chosen, 
and  exhibited  great  taste  and  judgment  in  the  artist.  The 
emUera  is  more  appropriate  than  you  are  aware  of— 
boasting  of  what  you  cannot  perform — grasping  at  what 
you  cannot  attain — an  emblem  of  arrogance  and  weakness 
—of  ill-directed  ambition  and  vulgar  pretension. 

Its  a  common  phrase,  said  he,  (with  great  composure) 
among  seamen,  to  say  *daniu  your  buttons,'  and  I  guess 
its  natural  for  you  to  say  so  of  the  buttons  of  our  navals ; 
I  guess  you  have  a  right  to  that  are  oath.  Its  a  sore  sub- 
ject, that,  I  reckon,  and  I  bcll(;ve  I  had'nt  ought  to  have 
spoken  of  it  to  you  at  all.  Brag  is  a  good  dog,  bot  hold 
fast  is  a  better  one. 

He  Whs  evidently  annoyed,  and  with  his  usual  dexterity 
gave  vent  to  his  feelings,  by  a  sally  upon  the  blue-noses, 
who,  he  says,  are  a  cross  of  English  and  Yankee,  and 
therefore  fi'*st  cousins  to  us  both.  Perhaps,  said  he,  that 
are  Eagle  might  with  more  propriety  have  been  taken  off 
as  perched  on  an  anchor,  instead  of  holding  it  in  his  claws, 
and  I  think  it  would  have  been  more  nateral ;  but  I  suppose 
it  was  some  stupid  foreign  artist  that  made  that  are  blunder 
— I  never  seed  one  yet  that  was  equal  to  ourn.  If  that 
Eagle  is  represented  as  trying  what  he  cant  doy  its  an 
honorable  ambition  arter  all,  but  these  blue-noses  wont  try 
what  they  can  do.  They  put  me  in  mind  of  a  great  big 
hulk  of  a  horse  in  a  cart,  that  wont  put  his  shoulder  to  the 
collar  at  all  for  all  the  lambastin  in  the  world,  but  turns  his 
head  round  and  looks  at  you,  as  much  as  to  say,  *  what  an 
everlastin  heavy  thing  an  empty  cart  is,  isnt  it  V  An  Owl 
should  be  their  emblem,  and  the  mottOy  *  He  sleeps  all  the 
days  of  his  life."*  The  whole  country  is  like  this  night  ,• 
l)eautiful  to  look  at,  but  silent  as  the  grave — still  as  death, 
asleep,  becalmed.      ' '"'..       '  «•>  '       '       '  '.  ' 

If  the  sea  was  always  calm,  said  he,  it  would  pyson  the 
universe  ,*  no  soul  could  breathe  the  air,  it  would  bp  so 


»,,.:;<<  iw  - 


THE   AMERICAN    EAGLE. 


#T 


unromnion  bad.  Stagnant  water  is  always  onple«sani,  h\H 
Kiilt  water  when  it  gets  tainted  beats  al!  natur;  motion 
keeps  it  sweet  and  wholesome,  and  that  our  minister  used 
to  f  ny  is  one  of  the  *  wonders  of  the  great  deep.'  Thi* 
province  is  stagnant ;  it  tan.e  deep  like  still  water  neither, 
for  its  shallcr  enough,  gracious  knows,  but  it  is  motionless, 
noiseless,  lifeless.  If  you  have  ever  been  to  sea  in  a  calm, 
you'd  know  what  a  plagy  tiresome  thing  it  is  for  a  man 
that's  in  a  hurry.  An  evorlastin  flappin  of  the  sails,  and  a 
creakin  of  the  booms,  and  on  onsteady  pitchin  of  the  ship, 
and  folks  lyin  about  dozin  away  their  time,  and  the  sea  a 
heavin  a  long  heavy  swell,  like  the  breathii)  of  the  chist  of 
some  great  monster  asleep.  A  passenger  wonders  the 
sailors  are  so  plagy  easy  about  it,  and  he  goes  a  lookin  out 
east,  and  a  spyin  out  west,  to  see  if  there's  any  chancv  of 
a  breeze,  and  says  to  himself,  •  Well,  if  this  aint  dull  music 
its  a  pity.'  Then  how  streaked  he  feels  when  he  sees  a 
steam-boat  a  clippin  it  by  him  like  mad,  and  the  folks  on 
board  pokin  fun  at  him,  and  askin  him  if  he  has  any  word 
to  send  home.  Well,  ho  says,  if  any  soul  ever  catches  mo 
on  board  a  sail  vessel  again,  when  I  can  go  by  steam,  I'll 
give  him  leave  to  tell  me  of  it,  that's  a  fact. 

That's  partly  the  case  here.  They  are  becalmed,  and 
they  see  us  going  ahead  on  them,  till  we  are  een  amost  out 
of  sight ;  yet  they  hant  got  a  steamboat,  and  they  hant  got 
a  railroad ;  indeed,  I  doubt  if  one  half  on  'em  ever  seed 
or  heerd  tell  of  one  or  tother  of  them.  I  never  seed  any 
folks  like  'em  except  the  Indians,  and  they  wont  even  so 
much  as  look — they  havn't  the  least  morsel  of  curiosity  in 
the  world ;  from  which  one  of  our  Unitarian  preachers 
(they  are  dreadful  hands  at  doubtin  them.  I  dont  dovht 
but  some  day  or  another,  they  will  doubt  whether  every 
thing  aint  a  doubt)  in  a  very  learned  work,  doubts  whether 
they  were  ever  descended  from  Eve  at  all.  Old  marm 
Eve's  children,  he  says,  are  all  lost,  it  is  said,  in  conse- 
quence of  too  much  curiosity,  while  these  copper  coloured 
folks  are  lost  from  havin  too  little.  How  can  they  be  the 
wime  ?  Thinks  I,  that  may  be  logic,  old  Dubersoine,  but 
it  ant  sense,  dont  extremes  meet  ?  Now,  these  blue-noses* 
have  no  motion  in  'em,  no  enterprise}  no  spirit,  and  if  aav 


.*il 


■-■*; 


^ 


m^- 


'4^^U'>^f  ■^•'  •"-■  '^'>-'  *•* 


I 


;ft..'ate£L^...A^?-r 


*■■ 


68 


THE   OLOOKMAKBR. 


critter  shows  any  symptoms  of  activity,  they  say  lie  is  a 
man  of  no  judgment,  he's  speculative,  he's  a  schemer,  in 
short,  he's  nwid.  They  vegetate  like  a  lettuce  plant  in 
sarce  garden,  they  grow  tall  and  spindlin,  run  to  seed  right 
off,  grow  as  bitter  us  gaul,  and  die.  if*     *  •'^:''' 

A  gall  once  came  to  our  minister  to  hire  as  a  house  help ; ' 
says  s'ric,  Minister,  I  suppose  you  don't  want  a  young  lady 
to  do  chamber  business  and  breed  worms,  do  you  f  For 
I've  half  a  mind  to  take  a  spell  at  livin  out  ^she  meant, 
said  the  clockmaker,  house  work  and  rearing  silk  worms.) 
My  pretty  nmiden,  says  he,  a  pattin  her  on  the  cheek, 
(for  I've  often  observed  old  men  always  lulk  kinder  plea- 
sant to  women,)  my  pretty  maiden,  where  was  you  brought 
up?  Why,  says  she,  I  guess  I  warn't  brought  at  all,  I 
growd  up.  Under  what  platform,  says  he,  (for  he  was  very 
particular  that  all  his  house  helps  should  go  to  his  meetin,) 
under  what  Church  platform  ?  Church  platform,  says  she, 
with  a  toss  of  her  head,  like  a  young  colt  that  got  a  check 
of  the  curb,  I  guess  I  warn't  raised  under  a  platform  at  all, 
but  in  as  good  a  house  as  yourn,  grand  as  you  be.— 
You  isuid  well,  said  the  old  minister,  quite  shocked,  when 
you  said  you  growd  up,  dear,  for  you  have  grown  up  in 
groat  ignorance.  Then  I  guess  you  had  better  get  a  lady 
that  knows  more  than  me,  says  she,  that's  flat.  I  reckon 
I  am  every  bit  and  grain  as  good  as  you  be — If  I  don't 
understand  a  bum-byx  (silk  worm)  both  feedin,  breedin, 
and  rearin,  then  I  want  to  know  who  does,  that's  all ; 
church  platform,  indeed,  says  she,  I  guess  you  were 
raised  under  a  glass  frame  in  March,  and  transplanted  on 
Independence  day,  warn't  you  ?  And  off  she  sot,  lookin 
as  scorney  as  a  London  lady,  and  leavin  the  poor  minister 
standin  starin  like  a  stuck  pig.  Well,  well,  says  he,  a 
liftin  up  both  hands,  and  turnin  up  the  whites  of  his  eyes 
like  a  duck  in  thunder,  if  that  don't  bang  the  bush  1 !  It 
fearly  beats  sheep  shearin,  after  the  blackberry  bushes 
have  got  the  wool.  It  does,  I  vow ;  them  are  the  tares  them 
Unitarians  sow  in  our  grain  fields  at  night ;  I  guess  they'll 
ruinate  the  crops  yet,  and  make  the  grounds  so  everlasting 
foul,  we'll  have  to  pare  the  sod  and  burn  it,  to  kill  the  roots. 
Our  fathers  sowed  the  right  seed  here  in  the  wilderness,  and 


v^ 


THH    AMBRIOAIf    EA«LE.  19 

watered  it  with  their  tears,  and  watched  over  it  with  fastin 
and  prayer,  and  now  it's  fairly  run  out,  that's  a  fact,  I 
■noro.  Its  got  choaked  up  with  all  sorts  of  trash  in  natur, 
I  declare.  Dear,  dear,  I  vow  I  never  seed  the  beat  o'  that 
in  all  my  born  days. 

Now  the  blue-noses  am  like  that  are  gall;  thoy  have 
grown  up,  and  grown  up  in  ignorance  of  many  things  they 
hadn't  ought  not  to  know ;  and  its  as  hard  to  teach  grown 
up  folks  as  it  is  to  break  a  six  year  old  horse ;  and  they 
do  ryle  one's  temper  so— they  act  so  ugly  that  it  tempts 
one  sometimes  to  break  their  confounded  necks — its  near 
about  as  much  trouble  as  it's  worth.  What  remedy  is  there 
for  all  this  supineness,  said  I ;  how  can  these  people  be 
awakened  out  of  their  ignorant  slothfulncss,  into  active 
exertion  ?  The  remedy,  said  Mr.  Slick,  is  at  hand— it  is 
already  workin  its  own  cure.  They  must  recede  before 
our  free  and  enlightened  citizenj,  like  the  Indians ;  our  folks 
will  buy  them  out,  and  they  must  give  place  to  a  more  in- 
telligent and  BiC-tive  people.  They  must  go  t  <  the  lands  of 
Labrador,  or  be  located  back  of  Canada ;  they  can  hold  or. 
there  a  few  years,  until  the  wave  of  civilization  reaches 
them,  and  then  they  must  move  again  as  the  savages  do. 
It  is  decreed ;  I  hear  the  bugle  of  destiny  a  soundin  of  their 
retreat,  as  plain  as  anything.  Congress  will  give  them  a 
concession  of  land,  if  they  petition,  away  to  Alleghany's 
backside  territory,  and  grant  them  relief  for  a  few  years ; 
for  we  are  out  of  debt,  and  don't  know  what  to  do  with  our 
surplus  revenue.  The  only  way  to  shame  them,  that  I 
know,  would  be  to  sarve  them  as  Uncle  Enoch  sarved  a 
neighbour  of  his  in  Varginy.  u^r  > 

There  was  a  lady  that  had  a  plantation  neb'  ^and  to 
hisn,  and  there  was  only  a  small  river  atwixt  the  iao  houses, 
so  that  folks  could  hear  each  other  talk  across  it.  Well, 
she  was  a  dreadful  cross  grained  woman,  a  r'^al  catamount, 
as  savage  as  a  she  bear  that  has  cubs,  an  old  farrow  critter, 
as  ugly  as  sin,  and  one  that  both  hooked- and  kicked  too-- 
B  most  particular  onmarcifui  she  devil,  that's  a  fact.  She 
used  to  have  some  of  her  niggers  tied  up  every  day,  and 
flogged  oncommon  severe,  and  their  screams  and  screeches 
weie  horrid — no  soul  could  stand  it ;  nothin  was  heerd  all 


■-i-.is^A'Si'^-oi- Is^^.i.. 


60 


y 
THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


day  but  ok  Lord  Missus  /  oh  Lord  Missus !  Enoch  was 
Hiirly  sick  of  the  sound,  for  he  was  a  tender  hearted  man, 
iind  says  he  to  her  one  day,  Now  do,  marm,  find  out  some 
other  place  to  give  your  cattle  the  cowskin,  for  it  worries 
me  to  hear  'em  take  on  so  dreadful  bad — I  can't  stand  it,  I 
vow ;  they  are  flesh  and  blood  as  well  as  we  be,  though  the 
meat  is  a  diflerent  colour ;  but  it  was  no  good — she  jist  up 
and  told  him  to  mind  his  own  business,  and  she  guessed 
she'd  mind  hern.  He  was  determined  to  shame  her  out  of 
it ;  so  one  mornin  arter  breakfast  he  goes  into  the  cane  field 
and  says  he  to  Lavender,  one  of  the  black  overseers,  Mus- 
ter up  the  whole  gang  of  slaves,  every  soul,  and  bring  'em 
down  to  the  whinpin  post,  the  whole  stock  of  them,  bulls, 
cows,  and  calves.  Well,  away  goes  Lavender,  and  drives 
up  all  the  niggers.  Now  you  catch  it,  says  he,  you  lazy 
villains ;  I  tole  you  so  many  a  time — I  tole  you  Massa  he 
lose  all  patience  wid  you,  you  good  for  nothin  rascals.  1 
grad,  upon  my  soul,  I  werry  grad ;  you  mind  now  what 
old  Lavender  say  anoder  time.  (The  black  overseers  are 
always  th^  most  cruel,  said  the  Clockmaker ;  they  have  no 
sort  of  feeling  for  their  own  people.) 

Well,  when  they  were  gathered  there  according  to  or- 
ders, they  looked  streaked  enough  you  may  depend,  thinkin 
they  were  going  to  get  it  all  round,  and  the  wenches  they 
fell  to  a  cryin,  wringin  their  hands,  aud  boo-hooing  like 
mad.  Lavender  was  there  with  his  cowskin,  grinnifi  like 
a  chessy  cat,  and  crackin  it  about,  ready  for  business.  Pick 
nje  out,  says  Enoch,  four  that  he.ve  the  loudest  voices  : 
hard  matter  dat,  says  Lavender,  iiard  matter  dat,  Massu, 
dey  all  talk  loud,  dey  all  lub  talk  more  better  nor  work 
-de  idle  villains ;  better  gib  'em  all  a  little  ticket,  jist  to 
teach  em  larf  on  tother  side  of  de  mouth :  dat  side  bran 
new,  they  never  use  it  yet.  Do  as  I  order  you.  Sir,  said 
Uncle,  or  I'll  have  you  triced  up,  you  cruel  old  rascal  you. 
When  they  were  picked  out  and  sot  by  themselves,  they 
hanged  their  heads,  and  looked  iike  sheep  going  to  the 
shambles.  Now,  says  Uncle  Enoch,  my  Pickininnies,  do 
you  sing  out  as  loud  as  Niagara,  at  the  very  tip  eeud  of 
your  voice— 


sEAJt,.... 


THE    AMERICAN    EAGLE. 

Dont't  kill  a  nigger,  pray,    ^  '^    J^    , 

Let  him  iib  anoder  day.  ^;^-, 

Oh  Lord  Missus — Oh  Lord  Missus, 

My  back  be  very  sore,  : 

',  No  stand  it  any  more.  '     i  '. 

Oh  Lord  Missus — Oh  Lord  Missus.    "" 

And  all  the  rest  of  you  join  chorus,  as  loud  as  you  can 
bawl,  Oh  Lord  Missus.  The  black  rascals  understood 
the  joke  real  well.  They  larfed  ready  to  split  thoir  sides : 
they  fairly  lay  down  on  the  ground,  and  rolled  over  and 
over  with  lafler.  Well,  when  they  came  to  the  chorus,  Oh 
Lord  Missusy  if  they  didn't  lei  go,  it's  a  pity.  They  made 
the  river  ring  agin — they  were  heerd  clean  out  to  sea.  All 
the  folks  ran  out  of  the  Lady's  house,  to  see  what  on  airth 
was  the  matter  on  Uncb  Enoch's  plantation — they  thought 
there  was  actilly  a  rebellion  there ;  but  when  they  listened 
awhile,  and  heerd  it  over  and  over  again,  they  took  the 
hint  and  returned  a  larfin  in  their  sleeves.  Says  they, 
Master  Enoch  Slick,  he  upsides  with  Missus  this  hitch 
any  how.  Uncle  never  heerd  any  thing  more  of  oh  Lord 
MissuSj  after  that.  Yes,  they  ought  to  be  shamed  out  of 
it,  those  blue-noses.  When  reason  fails  to  convince,  there 
is  nothin  left  but  ridicule.  If  they  have  no  ambition, 
apply  to  their  feelings,  clap  a  blister  on  their  pride,  and  it 
will  do  the  business.  It's  like  a  puttin  ginger  under  a 
horse's  tail ;  it  makes  hiin  carry  up  real  handsum,  I  tell 
you.  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  was  always  late  to  school ; 
well,  father's  preachin  I  didn't  mind  much,  but  I  never 
could  bear  to  hear  my  mother  say,  Why  Sam,  are  you 
actilly  up  for  all  day  ?  Well,  I  hope  your  airly  risin  won't 
hurt  you,  I  declare.  What  on  airth  is  agoin  to  happen 
now  ?  Well,  wonders  will  never  cease.  It  raised  my 
dander ;  at  last  says  I,  Now,  mother,  don't  say  that  are  any 
more  for  gracious  sake,  for  it  makes  me  feel  ugly,  and  l\\i^, 
get  up  as  airly  as  any  on  you ;  and  so  I  did,  and  I  soon  fountt 
what's  worth  knowin  in  this  life,  An  airly  start  mdkta  easp 
stages.      '  ' '        '  ' 


f" 


i!©""*^"* 


ea 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


'"''  ''^-^hi 


f^ 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  CLOCKMAKER'S  OPIJSION  OF  HAUFAX. 

The  next  morning  was  warmer  than  several  that  had 
preceded  it.  It  was  one  of  those  uncommonly  fine  days 
that  distinguish  an  American  autumn.  I  guess,  said  Mr. 
Slick,  the  heat  to-day  is  like  a  glass  of  Mint  Julip,  with  a 
lump  of  ice  in  it,  it  tastes  cool  and  feels  warm — its  real  good, 
I  tell  you  ;  J  love  such  a  day  as  this  dearly.  Its  generally 
allowed  the  finest  weather  in  the  world  is  in  America — there 
ant  the  beat  of  it  to  be  found  any  where.  He  then  lighted 
a  cigar,  and  throwing  himself  back  on  his  chair,  put  both 
feet  out  of  the  window,  and  sat  with  his  arms  folded,  a  per- 
fect picture  of  happiness.  ^  '■'.. 

You  appeal',  said  I,  to  have  travelled  over  the  whole  of 
this  Province,  and  to  have  observed  the  country  and  the 
people  with  much  attention,  pray  what  is  your  opinion  of 
thn  present  state  and  future  prospects  of  Halifax?  If  you 
will  tell  me,  said  he,  when  the  folks  there  will  wake  up, 
then  I  can  answer  you,  but  they  are  fast  asleep ;  as  to  the 
Province,  its  a  splendid  province,  and  calculated  to  go  ahead, 
it  will  grow  as  fast  as  a  Varginy  gall,  aii  J  ihey  grow  so 
amazin  fast,  if  you  put  your  arm  round  one  of  their  necks 
to  kiss  them,  by  the  time  you're  done,  they've  grown  up 
into  women.  It's  a  pretty  Province  I  tell  you,  good  above 
and  better  below ;  surface  covered  with  pastures,  meadows, 
woods,  and  a  nation  sight  of  water  privileges,  and  under 
the  ground  full  of  mines — it  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  soup  at 
the  TVee-mont  house. 

One  day  I  was  a  walkin  in  the  Mall,  and  who  should  I 
meet  but  Major  Bradford,  a  gentleman  from  Connecticut, 
that  traded  in  Ci.ves  and  pumpkins  for  the  Boston  market. 
*  Says  he.  Slick,  where  do  you  get  your  grub  to-day  ?  At 
General  Peep's  tavern,  says  I.  Only  fit  for  niggers,  says 
he :  why  dont  you  come  to  the  TVee-mont  house,  that's 
the  most  splendid  thing  its  generally  allowed  in  all  the 


THE  CLOCKMAKKR  S  OPINION,  ETC. 


m 


^^'orld.  Why,  says  I,  that's  a  notch  above  my  mark,  I 
guess  it's  too  plagy  dear  for  me,  I  cant  afford  it  no  how. 
Well,  says  he,  its  dear  in  one  sense,  but  its  dog  cheap  in 
another — its  a  grand  place  for  a  speculation — there's  so 
many  rich  southerners  and  strangers  there  that  have  more 
money  than  wit,  that  you  might  do  a  pretty  good  business 
there  without  goin  out  of  the  street  door.  I  made  two 
hundred  dollars  this  mornin  in  little  less  than  half  no  time. 
There's  a  Carolina  lawyer  there,  as  rich  as  a  bank,  and 
says  he  to  me  arter  breakfast.  Major,  says  he,  I  wish  I 
knew  where  to  get  a  real  slapping  trotter  of  a  horse,  one 
that  could  trot  with  a  flash  of  lightning  for  a  mile,  and  beat 
it  by  a  whole  neck  or  so.  Says  I,  my  Lord,  (for  you 
must  know,  he  says  he's  the  nearest  male  heir  to  a  Scotch 
dormant  peerage,)  my  Lord,  says  I,  I  have  one,  a  proper 
sneezer,  a  chap  that  can  go  ahead  of  a  rail-road  steamer,  a 
real  natural  traveller,  one  that  can  trot  with  the  ball  out 
of  the  small  eend  of  a  rifle,  and  never  break  into  a  gallop. 
Says  he.  Major,  I  wish  you  wouldnt  give  me  that  are 
knicknanie,  I  dont  like  it,  (though  he  looked  as  tickled  all 
the  time  as  possible,)  I  never  knew,  says  he,  a  lord  that 
wornt  a  fool,  that's  a  fact,  and  that's  the  reason  I  don't  go 
ahead  and  claim  the  title.  Well,  says  I,  my  Lord,  I  don't 
know,  but  somehow  I  cant  help  a  thinkin,  if  you  have  a 
good  claim,  you'd  be  more  like  a  fool  not  to  go  ahead  with 
it.  Well,  says  he.  Lord  or  no  Lord,  let's  look  at  your 
horse.  So  away  I  went  to  Joe  Brown's  livery  stable,  at 
tother  eend  of  the  city,  and  picked  out  the  best  trotter  ho 
had,  and  no  great  stick  to  brag  on  either;  says  I,  Joe 
Brown,  what  do  you  ax  for  that  are  horse  ?  Two  hundred 
dollars,  says  he.  Well,  says  I,  I  will  take  him  out  and 
try  him,  and  if  I  like  him  I  will  keep  him.  So  I  shows 
our  Carolina  Lord  the  horse,  and  when  he  gets  on  him, 
says  T,  Dont  let  him  trot  as  i^st  as  he  can,  resarve  that  for 
a  '  it;  if  folks  find  out  how  everlastin  fast  he  is,  they'd 
be  afeared  to  stump  you  for  a  start.  When  he  returned, 
he  said  he  liked  the  horse  amazingly,  and  axed  the  price ; 
four  hundred  dollars,  says  I,  you  can  get  nolhin  special 
without  a  good  price,  pewter  cases  never  hold  good 
watches  ;  I  know  it,  says  he,  the  horse  is  mine.     Thinka 


"S  I'im 


■A^-; 


I(, 


V 


01 


THE    CLOCKMAFER. 


I  to  myself,  that's  more  than  ever  I  could  say  of  him  then 
any  how. 

Well,  I  was  goui  to  tell  you  about  the  soup — says  th6 
Major,  its  near  about  dinner  time,  jist  come  and  see  how 
you  like  the  location.  There  was  a  sight  of  folks  there, 
gentlemen  and  ladies  in  the  public  room  (I  never  seed  so 
many  afore  except  at  commencement  day,)  all  ready  for  a 
start,  and  when  the  gong  sounded,  off  we  sott  like  a  flock 
of  sheep.  Well,  if  there  warnt  a  jam  you  may  depend- 
some  give  me  a  pull,  and  I  near  abouts  went  heels  up  over 
head,  so  I  reached  out  both  hands,  and  caught  hold  of  the 
first  thing  I  could,  and  what  should  it  be  but  a  lady's  dress 
— well,  as  I'm  alive,  rip  went  the  frock,  and  tear  goes  the 
petticoat,  and  when  I  righted  myself  from  my  beam  eends, 
away  they  all  came  home  to  me,  and  there  she  was,  the 
pretty  critter,  with  all  her  upper  riggin  standing  as  far 
as  her  waist,  and  nothin  left  below  but  a  short  linen 
under  garment.  If  she  didnt  scream,  its  a  pity,  and  the 
more  she  screamed,  the  more  folks  larfed,  for  no  soul  could 
help  larfin,  till  one  of  the  waiters  folded  her  up  in  a  table 
cloth. 

What  an  awkward  devil  you  be.  Slick,  sayL,  the  Major, 
now  that  comes  of  not  falling  in  first,  they  should  have 
formed  four  deep,  rear  rank  in  open  order,  and  marched 
in  to  our  splendid  national  air,  and  filed  off  to  their  seats, 
right  and  left  shoulders  forward.  I  feel  kinder  sorry,  too, 
says  he  for  that  are  young  heifer,  but  she  showed  a  proper 
pretty  leg  tho'  Slick,  didnt  she — I  guess  you  dont  often 
get  such  a  chance  as  that  are.  Well,  I  gets  near  the 
Major  at  table,  and  afore  mo  stood  a  china  utensil  with 
two  handles,  full  of  soup,  about  the  size  of  a  foot  tub,  with 
a  large  silver  scoop  in  it,  near  about  as  big  as  a  ladle  of  a 
maple  sugar  kettle,  i  was  jist  about  bailing  out  some  soup 
into  my  dish,  when  the  Major  said,  fish  it  up  from  the  bot- 
tom, Slick,^ — well,  sure  enough,  I  gives  it  a  drag  from  the 
bottom,  and  up  come  the  fat  pieces  of  turtle,  and  the  thick 
rich  soup,  and  a  sight  of  little  forced  meat  balls,  of  the 
size  of  sheep's  dung.  No  soul  could  tell  how  good  it  was 
— it  was  near  about  as  handsum  as  father's  old  genuine 
particular  cider,  and  that  you  could  feel  tingle  clean  away 


.•:t-; ..  ;.v-  ,-''■.  .ftiv.'^ 


I       ■'■     . "  1 


THE  CLOCKMARBR  S  OPINION,  ETC. 


GA 


down  to  the  tip  eends  of  yojr  toes.  Now,  says  tho 
Major,  I'll  give  you,  Slick,  a  new  wrinkle  on  your  horn. 
Folks  aint  thought  nothing  of,  unless  they  live  at  Tree- 
mont :  its  a'l  the  go.  Do  you  dine  at  Peep's  tavern  everj 
day,  and  theri  otf  hot  foot  to  Trcemont,  and  pick  your 
teeth  on  the  street  steps  there,  and  folks  will  think  you  dine 
there.  I  do  it  often,  and  it  saves  two  dollars  a  day.  Then 
he  put  his  finger  on  his  nose,  and  says  he,  *  Mum  is  the 
word,* 

Now  this  Province  is  jist  like  that  are  soup,  good  enough 
at  top,  but  dip  down  and  you  have  the  riches,  the  coal,  the 
iron  ore,  the  gypsum,  and  what  not.  As  for  Halifax,  its 
well  enough  in  itself,  though  no  great  shakes  neither,  a  few 
sizeable  houses,  with  a  proper  sight  of  small  ones,  like 
half  a  dozen  old  hens  with  their  broods  of  young  chickens ; 
but  the  people,  the  strange  critters,  they  are  all  asleep. 
They  walk  in  their  sleep,  and  talk  in  their  sleep,  and  what 
they  say  one  day  they  forget  the  next,  they  say  they  were 
dreaming.  You  know  where  Governor  Campbell  lives, 
dont  you,  in  a  large  stone  house,  with  a  great  wall  round 
It,  that  looks  like  a  state  prison ;  well,  near  hand  there 
is  a  nasty  dirty  horrid  lookin  buryin  ground  there — its 
filled  with  large  grave  rats  as  big  as  kittens,  and  the 
springs  of  black  water  there,  go  through  the  chinks  of  the 
rocks,  and  flow  into  all  the  wells,  and  fairly  pyson  the 
folks — its  a  dismal  place,  I  tell  you — I  wonder  the  air 
from  it  dont  turn  all  the  silver  in  the  Gineral's  house,  of  a 
brass  colour,  (and  folks  say  he  has  four  cart  loads  of  it) 
Its  so  everlastin  bad — its  near  about  as  nosey  as  a  slave  ship 
of  niggers.  Well,  you  may  go  there  and  shake  the  folks 
to  all  etarnity  and  you  wont  wake  'em,  I  guess,  and  yet 
there  ant  much  difference  atween  their  sleep  and  the 
folks  at  Halifax,  only  they  lie  still  there  and  are  qvriet, 
and  don't  walk  and  talk  in  their  sleep  like  them  above 
ground. 

Halifax  reminds  me  of  a  Russian  officer  I  once  seed  at 
Warsaw ;  he  had  lost  both  arms  in  battle ;  but  I  guess  I 
must  tell  you  first  why  I  went  there,  cause  that  "vill  show 
you  how  we  speculate.  One  Sabbath  day,  afler  l>  ll  ringin, 
when  nwst  of  the  v.omen  had  gone  to  mcetin  (for  they 
6* 


.*-    ? 


ff  '  '">'"  ■«' 


66 


THF.  GLOCKMAKBIU 


p.. 


were  great  hands  for  i  rctty  snrmons,  and  our  Unitarian 
ministers  all  preach  pootry,  only  they  leave  the  ryme  out 
— it  sparkles  like  perry,)  I  goes  down  to  East  India 
Mharf  to  see  Captain  Zcek  Hancock,  of  Nantuckr>f,  to 
enquire- how  oil  was,  and  if  it  would  bear  doing  ahy!hi;ig 
in ;  when  who  shoul'i  come  along  but  Jabisi'j,  Gn^en. 
Slick,  says  he,  how  do  ;  ou  do :  isn't  this  as  pn't«.y  r  day 
as  you'll  see  between  ibis  and  Norfolk  ;  it  whipif*  Enri,li^h 
weather  by  a  long  chalk;  and  then  he  -ooked  dowii  at 
my  watch  seals,  and  locked  and  looked  b'?  if  he  ihought 
I'd  stole  'em.  At  last  h>i  looks  up,  and  say'  he.  Slick, 
I  su{»p<»se  you  would'nt  gt>  to  Wariiw,  would  yon,  if  it 
was  made  worth  your  while?  Which  AYnrimw  ?  says  I^ 
fcr  I  believe  in  my  heart  wr  have  u  hundred  of  them. 
None  of  on rn  at  fill,  says  he;  Warsaw  in  Po'yud.  Well, 
i  don't  k.naw,  says  I ;  what  do  you  call  worih  while '?  Six 
doliara  fs  ^iny,  expevjses  paid,  and  a  bonus  of  one  thousand 
dollars,  it  specu  viioiJ  turna  out  well.  I  am  off,  says  I^ 
vvheriex'sr  vov.  stv  20.  Tuesda 
bur.jh  packet.     I jfow,  r^ays 

I'm  ;!:oii?  a  piaasurin  lo  day  m  the  Custom  House  Boat, 
alon^  with  Josiah  Bradford's  galls  down  to  Njihant.  But 
I'll  tell  you  what  I  am  at :  the  Emperor  of  Russia  has 
orde!>:d  the  Poles  to  cut  off  their  queus  on  the  1st  of  Janu- 
ary ;  you  must  buy  them  all  up,  and  ship  them  ofl'  to  Lon- 
don for  die  wig  makers.  Human  hair  is  scarce  and  risin. 
Lord  a  massy  !  says  I,  how  queer  they  will  look,  wont 
they.  Well,  I  vow,  tlat's  what  the  sea  folks  call  sailing 
under  bare  PoleSy  come  true,  aint  it  1  I  guess  it  will  turn 
out  a  good  spec,  says  he ;  und  a  good  one  it  did  turn  outt — 
lie  cleared  ten  thousand  dollajs  by  it.  m^  <i' 

When  I  was  at  Warsaw,  as  I  was  a  sayin,  there  was  a 
Russian  officer  there  wlio  had  lost  both  his  arms  in  battle, 
a  good  natured  contented  critter,  as  I  een  amost  ever  see'd, 
and  he  was  fed  with  spoons  by  his  neighbours,  but  arter  a 
while  they  grew  tired  of  it,  and  I  guess  he  near  about 
starved  to  death  at  last.  Now  Halifax  is  like  that  are 
Spooney,  as  I  used  to  call  him ;  it  is  fed  by  the  outfjorts, 
and  they  begin  to  have  enough  to  do  to  feed  the  .^plves-— 
It  must  larn  to  livf}  without  'em.    They  have  d    z'  ct,  and 


,U        «»..       ..V/.».  «         »*»..        V..»,        K,^J   '^        *> 

uesdav,  says  he,  in  the  Ham- 
he,  I  m  in  a  tarnation  hurry ; 


1  /  • 


\  t 


THE   CLOCKMAKER's   OPINION,    ETC. 


^] 


iio  country  about  them ;  let  them  make  a  railroad  to  Minus 
Basin,  nnd  they  will  have  arms  of  their  own  to  feed  tliem- 
selves  with.  If  they  don't  do  it,  and  do  it  soon,  I  guess 
they'll  get  into  a  decline  that  no  human  skill  will  cure 
They  are  proper  thin  now ;  you  can  count  their  ribs  een  a 
most  as  far  as  you  can  see  them.  The  only  thing  that 
will  either  make  or  save  Ilal'tfaxy  ia  a  railroad  across  the 
country  to  Bay  of  Fundy. 

It  will  do  to  talk  of,  says  one ;  You'll  see  it  some  day, 
says  another;  Yes,  says  a  third,  it  will  come,  but  we  are 
too  young  yet.  , . 

Our  old  minister  had  a  darter,  a  real  clever  looking  gull 
as  you'd  see  in  a  day's  ride,  and  she  had  two  or  three 
offers  of  marriage  from  sponsible  men — most  particular 
good  specs — but  minister  always  said  '  Phoebe,  you  are 
too  young — the  day  will  come — but  you  are  too  young 
yet,  dear.'  Well,  Phcebe  did'nt  think  so  at  all ;  she  said. 
She  guessed  she  knew  better  nor  that ;  so  the  next  offer 
she  had,  she  said  she  had  no  notion  to  lose  another  chance 
—off  she  shot  to  Rhode  Island  and  got  married ;  says  she, 
Father's  too  old,  he  don't  know.  That's  jist  the  case  at 
Halifax.  The  old  folks  say  the  country  is  too  young — the 
time  will  come,  and  so  on ;  and  in  the  mean  time  the 
young  folks  won't  wait,  and  run  off  to  the  States^  where  the 
maxim  isj  *  youth  ia  the  time  for  improvement ;  a  new  coun- 
try ia  never  too  young  for  exertion — push  on — keep  motin 
—go  ahead.* 

Darn  it  all,  said  the  Clockmaker,  rising  with  great  ani. 
mation,  clinching  his  fist,  and  extending  his  arm — darn  it 
ai!.  it  fairly  makes  my  dander  rise,  to  see  the  nasty  idle 
loungin  good  for  nothing  do  little  critters — they  aint  fit  to 
tend  1  bc.r  trap,  J,  vow.  They  ought,  to  be  quilted  round 
and  round  a  room,  likr^  a  lady's  lap  dog  the  matter  of  two 
hours  a  day,  to  "keep  them  from  dyin  of  apoplexy.  Hush, 
hush,  said  I,  Mr.  Slick,  you  forget.  Well,  said  he,  resum- 
ing his  usual  ctwnposure — well,  it's  enough  to  make  one 
vexed  though,  I  declare — is'nt  it  ? 

Mr.  ^licM  has  often  u-luded  to  this  subject  and  always 
in  a  mop*  ijcided  nranner;  I  am  inclmed  to  think  he  is 
i.lght.     ^lr.  Howe's  papers  oi^  the  railroad  I  read,  tiU  I 


■f^^hil 


:'.*:;;v7^l 


mW' 


06 


THB   CLOCKMAKfiR. 


came  to  his  calculations,  but  I  never  could  read  figures, 

*  I  can't  cypher,'  and  there  I  paused ;  it  was  a  barrier :  f 
retreated  a  few  paces,  took  a  running  leap,  and  cleared  t!ie 
whole  of  them.  Mr.  Slick  says  he  has  under  ftnd  not  over 
rated  its  advantages.  He  appears  to  be  sucl*  a  shrewd, 
observing,  intelligent  man,  and  so  perfectly  at  home  on 
these  subjects,  that  I  confess  I  have  more  faith  in  this  hum- 
ble but  eccentric  Clockmaker,  than  in  any  other  man  T 
have  met  with  in  this  Province.     I  therefore  pronounce 

*  there  will  be  a  railroad.^ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


]-■'       .     SAYINGS  AND  DOINGS  IN  CUMBERLAND. 

I  RECKON,  said  the  Clockmaker,  as  we  strolled  through 
Amherst,  you  have  read  Hook's  story  of  the  boy  that  one 
day  asked  one  of  his  father's  guests  who  his  next  door 
neighbour  was,  and  when  he  heerd  his  name,  asked  him ' 
if  he  warnt  a  fool.  No,  my  little  feller,  said  he,  he  beant 
a  fool,  he  is  a  most  particular  sensible  man  ;  but  why  did 
you  ax  that  are  question  ?  Why,  said  the  little  boy,  mother 
said  tother  day  you  were  next  door  to  a  fool,  and  I  wanted 
to  know  who  lived  next  door  to  you.  His  moth'^  i*  felt 
pretty  ugly,  I  guess,  when  she  heerd  him  run  right  slap  on 
that  are  breaker. 

Now  these  Cumberland  folks  have  curious  next  door 
neighbours,  too;  they  are  placed  by  thei>  location  right 
atwixt  fire  and  water ;  they  have  New  Brunswick  politics 
on  one  side,  and  Nova  Scotia  politics  on  tother  side  of  them, 
and  Bay  Fundy  and  Bay  Varte  on  tother  two  sides  ;  they 
are  actilly  in  hot  water ;  they  are  up  to  their  croopers  in 
politics,  and  great  hands  for  talking  of  House  of  Assembly 
political  Unions,  and  what  not.  Like  all  folks  who  wade 
so  deep,  they  can't  always  tell  the  natur  of  the  ford.  Some- 
times they  strike  their  shins  agin  a  snag  of  a  rock  ;  at 
other  times,  they  go  whap  into  a  quicksand,  and  if  they 


^:.±X^Si::l: 


/•/ 


SAYKVGS  AND  DOINGS  IN  CUMBERLAND. 


09 


1  figures, 
(arrier:  J 
eared  t'ae 
i  not  wef 
L  shrewd, 
home  on 
this  hum- 
sr  man  I 
•renounce 


through 

that  one 

ext  door 

ced  him 

le  beant 
why  did 

mother 

wanted 
felt 

slap  on 


th^ 


xt  door 
on  right 

politics 
of  them, 

;  they 
)pers  in 
sembly 
10  wade 

Some- 


's 


,      CM 


if  they 


don't  take  special  care  they  are  apt  to  go  souse  over  head 
and  ears  into  deep  water.  I  guess  if  they'd  talk  more  of 
Rotations,  and  less  of  elections,  more  of  them  are  Dykes, 
and  less  of  Banks,  and  attend  more  to  top  dressing,  and 
less  to  re-dressing,  it  ed  be  better  for  'em. 

Now  you  mention  the  subject,  I  think  I  have  observed, 
said  I,  that  there  is  a  great  change  in  your  countrymen  in 
that  respect.  Formerly,  whenever  you  met  an  American, 
you  had  a  dish  of  politics  set  before  you,  whether  you  had 
an  appetite  for  it  or  not ;  but  lately  I  have  remarked  they 
seldom  allude  to  it.  Pray  to  what  is  this  attributable  ?  I 
guess,  said  he,  they  have  enough  of  it  to  home,  and  are 
sick  of  the  subject.  They  are  cured  the  way  our  pastry 
cooks  cure  their  prentices  of  stealing  sweet  notions  out  of 
their  shops.  When  they  get  a  new  prentice  they  tell  him 
he  must  never  so  much  as  look  at  all  them  are  nice  things ; 
and  if  he  dares  to  lay  the  weight  of  his  finger  upon  one  of 
them,  they'll  have  him  up  for  it  before  a  justice ;  they  tell 
him  its  every  bit  and  grain  as  bad  as  stealing  from  a  till. 
Well,  that's  sure  to  set  him  at  it,  just  as  a  high  fence  does 
a  breechy  ox,  first  to  look  over  it,  and  then  to  push  it  down 
with  its  rump ;  its  human  natur.  Well,  the  boy  eatj  and 
eats  till  he  can't  eat  no  longer,  and  then  he  gets  sick  at  his 
stomach,  and  hates  the  very  sight  of  sweatmeats  'trter- 
wards. 

We've  had  politics  with  us  till  we're  dog  sick  of  'em,  I  tell 
you.  Besides,  1  guess  we  are  as  far  from  perfAition  as 
when  we  set  out  a  roin  for  it.  You  may  get  purity  of 
Election,  but  how  are  you  to  get  purity  of  Members  ?  It 
would  take  a  great  deal  of  cyphering  to  tell  that.  I  never 
heerd  tell  of  one  who  had  seed  it. 

The  best  member  I  een  amost  ever  seed  was  John 
Adams.  Well,  John  Adams  could  no  more  plough  a  straight 
furi*ow  in  politics  than  he  could  haul  the  plough  himself. 
He  might  set  out  straight  at  beginnin  for  a  little  way,  but 
he  was  sure  to  get  crooked  afore  he  j;ot  to  the  eend  of  the 
ridge — and  sometimes  he  would  have  two  or  three  crooks 
in  it.  I  used  to  say  to  him,  how  on  airth  is  it,  Mr.  Adams 
(for  he  was  no  way  proud  like,  though  he  was  president  of 
our  great  n  and  it  is  allowed  to  be  the  greatest  nation 

in  the  worlu,   oo ;  for  you  might  see  him  sometimes  of  an 


55:^' 


.■^.^^^>^.  ,^?1|Q?!EIEI- 


^'f\*  '«■       ;■■%•"-•< "s-  '■'^- 


70 


t'V)**. , 


THIO    CLOCKMAKER. 


i.** 


arlernoon  a  swimmin  ulon;^  with  the  boys  in  the  Potomac ; 
I  do  believe  that's  thf^  way  ho  lamed  to  give  the  folks  the 
dod^  so  spry ;)  well,  I  used  to  sny  to  him,  how  on  airth  is 
it,  Mr.  Adams,  you  "i  i't  '.nake  straight  work  on  il  i  Ho 
was  a  grand  bar. I  at  '*u  'j.<ouse  (though  minister  used  to 
say  that  folks  tliai  neie  good  at  an  excuse,  were  seldom 
good  for  nothiii  else) ;  sometimes,  he  said,  the  ground  was 
so  tarnation  stony,  it  throwed  the  plough  out ;  at  other 
times,  he  said,  the  olTox  was  such  an  ugly  wilful  tempered 
critter,  there  was  no  doin  nothin  v 't^  *>im;  or  that  there 
was  so  much  machinery  abo  it  ajo  plough,  it  made  it  plaguy 
hard  to  steer,  or  may  be  it  was  the  fault  of  them  that  went 
afore  him,  that  they  laid  it  down  so  bad ;  unless  he  was 
hire  !  for  another  term  of  four  years,  the  work  would'nt 
look  :'1I ;  and  if  all  them  are  excuses  would'nt  do,  why  he 
woulf'  take  to  scolding  the  nigger  that  drove  the  team 
th.  ow  all  the  blame  on  him,  and  order  him  to  have  an  ever- 
lastin  lacin  with  the  cowskin.  You  might  as  well  catch  a 
weazel  asleep  as  catch  him.  He  had  somcthin  the  matter 
with  one  ey.  —well,  he  knew  I  know'd  that  when  he  was  a 
boy ;  so  one  day,  a  feller  presontjd  a  petition  to  him,  and 
he  told  him  it  was  very  afTectin.  Says  he,  it  fairly  dra..s 
tears  from  me,  and  his  weak  eye  took  to  lettin  off  its  water 
like  statiec  j  so  as  soon  as  the  chap  went,  he  winks  to  me 
witii  tother  one,  quite  knowin,  as  much  as  to  say,  you  see 
its  all  in  my  eye,  Slick,  but  don't  let  on  to  any  one  about 
it,  that  I  said  so.  That  eye  was  a  regular  cheat,  a  com- 
plete New  England  woodei  nitmeg.  Folks  said  that  Mr. 
Adams  was  a  very  tend«ir- hearted  loan.  Perhaps  he  was, 
but  I  guess  that  e;^  o  lid'nt  ,)ump  it  vater  out  o'  that  place. 
Members  in  geru.ral  aint  to  bo  (.  ponded  on,  I  tell  you. 
Politics  makes  a  man  as  crooked  as  a  pack  does  a  pedlar ; 
not  that  they  are  so  an  "ul  heavy,  neither,  bi  .  it  teaches  a 
man  to  stoop  in  the  long  run.  Arter  all,  there's  not  tha! 
difference  in  'em  (at  least  there  ain't  in  Congress)  one  wo'ild 
Jhink ;  for  if  one  of  them  is  cle.r  oi  .nie  vice,  why,  as  like 
as  not,  he  has  another  fault  i'  as  b  id.  An  honest  far- 
mer, like  one  of  these  Cumbe.  ..id  f<  ks,  when  he  goes  to 
choose  atwixt  two  thiit  offers  for  votes,  is  jist  Uke  the  flying 
fwh.     That  are  little  crittur  is  not  content  to  stav  to  home 


PofomHC ; 

f<>lks  tho 

>n  airth  isi 

1  it?  Ho 
er  used  to 
re  seldom 
round  was 
;  at  other 

tempered . 
that  there 

2  it  plaguy 
that  went 

ss  he  was 
t.  would'nt 
o,  why  he 
the  team 
ro  an  ever- 
11  catch  a 
he  matter 
I  he  was  a 
him,  and 
rly  dru-.s 
'  its  water 
iks  to  me 
',  you  see 
me  about 
it,  a  corn- 
that  Mr. 
he  was, 
at  place, 
tell  you. 
pedlar ; 
caches  a 
not  that 
ne  would 
,  as  like 
nest  far- 
goes  to 
e  flying 
to  home 


SAYIIfGS  AlfD  DOlIfOS  IV  CUMBRRLAlfO.  Tl 

In. the  water,  and  mind  its  business,  but  ho  must  try  his 
hand  at  My  in, — and  ho  is  no  great  dab  ut  (lyin,  ncitlN)r. 
Well,  the  moment  h(;'s  out  of  water,  and  takes  to  llyin,  the 
sea  fowl  are  arter  him,  and  let  him  have  it ;  and  if  he  has 
tho  good  luck  to  escape  them,  and  dive  into  the  sen,  the 
dolphin,  as  like  as  not,  has  a  dig  at  him,  that  knocks  more 
wind  out  of  him  than  he  got  while  aping  the  birds,  a  plaguy 
bight.  I  guess  the  blue-noses  know  jist  about  as  much 
about  politics  as  this  foolish  fish  knows  about  flying.  All 
crittura  in  natur  are  better  in  their  own  clement. 

It  beats  cock-fightin,  I  tell  you,  to  hear  the  blue-noses, 
when  they  get  together,  talk  politics.  They  have  got  thi^ee 
or  four  evil  spirits,  like  the  Irish  Banshees,  that  they  say 
cause  all  the  mischief  in  the  Province — the  Council,  the 
Banks,  the  House  of  Asseu  »ly,  and  the  Lawyers.  If  a 
man  places  a  higher  valiation  on  himself  than  his  neigh- 
bors do,  and  wants  to  be  a  magistrate  before  he  is  fit  to 
carry  the  ink  horn  for  one,  and  finds  himself  safely  deli- 
vered of  a  mistake,  he  says  it  is  all  owing  to  the  Council. 
The  members  are  cunning  critters,  too,  they  know  this 
feelin,  and  when  they  come  home  from  Assembly,  and  peo- 
ple ax  'em  '  where  are  all  them  are  fine  things  you  pro- 
mised us  Why,  they  say,  weM  a  had  'em  all  for  you, 
but  for  that  etarnal  Council,  they  nullified  all  we  did.  The 
r  ntry  will  come  to  no  good  till  them  chaps  show  their 
respect  for  it,  by  covering  their  bottoms  with  homespun. 
If  a  man  so  tarnation  lazy  he  wont  work,  and  in  course 
has  no  money,  why  he  says  it  all  owin  to  the  banks,  they 
wont  discount,  there's  no  money,  they've  ruined  the  Pro- 
vince. If  there  beant  a  road  made  up  ^o  every  citizen's 
door,  away  back  to  the  woods  (who  as  like  as  not  has 
squatted  there)  why  he  says  the  House  of  Assembly  have 
voted  all  the  money  to  pay  great  men's  salaries,  and  tbv"  e's 
nothing  left  for  poor  settlers,  and  cross  roads.  Well,  the 
lawyers  come  in  for  their  share  of  cake  and  ale,  too,  if  they 
don't  catch  it,  it's  a  pity.        >  .     t '.  %,;v.'   «.  i^:  Vn 

There  was  one  Jim  Munroe  of  Onion  County,  Connecti- 
cut, a  desperate  idle  fellow,  a  great  hand  at  singin  songs,  a 
ska^in,  drivin  about  with  the  gals,  and  so  on.  Well,  if 
any  body's  windows  were  broke,  it  was  Jim  M  anroe — and 


Vi^-;!.*^:  ii-)/...^ 


x 


n 


'♦V  H*»«       THB  CLOCKMAKBR.  ^^   '♦^• 


if  there  wore  any  youngsters  in  wnnt  of  a  father,  they  were 
sure  to  bo  poor  Jim*s.  Jist  so  it  is  with  the  lawyers  here  ; 
thoy  stand  Gmlftithers  for  every  misfortune  that  happens  in 
the  country.  When  thorn  is  a  mad  dog  a  goin  about,  every 
dog  that  barks  is  said  to  bo  bit  by  the  mad  one,  so  he  gets 
credit  for  all  the  mischief  that  every  dog  does  for  three 
months  to  come.  Po  every  feller  that  goes  yelpin  homo 
from  a  court  house,  smartin  from  the  law,  swears  ho  is  bit 
by  a  lawyer.  Now  there  may  be  something  wrong  in  all 
these  things,  (and  it  cant  be  otherwise  in  natur)  in  Council, 
Banks,  House  of  Assembly,  and  Lawyers :  but  change 
thsm  all,  and  its  an  even  chance  if  you  don't  get  worse 
ones  in  their  room.  It  is  in  politics  as  in  horses ;  when 
a  man  has  a  beast  that's  near  about  up  to  the  notch,  hcM 
better  not  swap  him  ;  if  ho  docs,  he's  een  amost  sure  to  get 
one  not  so  good  as  his  own.  My  rule  t«,  Fd  rather  keep  a 
critter  whose  faults  I  do  knowj  than  change  him  for  a  beast 
whose  faults  I  dont  know,  ^ 


■Ai 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  DANaNG  MASTER  ABROAD 


!-v 


•  I  WISH  that  are  black  heifer  in  the  kitchen  would  give 
over  singing  that  are  everiastin  dismal  tune,  said  the  Clock- 
maker,  It  makes  my  head  ache.  You've  hecrd  a  song 
afore  now,  said  he,  havn't  you,  till  you  was  fairly  sick  of 
it?  for  I  have,  I  vow.  The  last  time  I  was  in  Rhode 
Island,  (all  the  galls  sing  there,  and  it's  generally  allowed 
there's  no  such  singers  anywhere ;  they  beat  the  Eye- 
talians  a  long  chalk — they  sing  so  hi£;h  some  on  'em,  they 
go  clear  out  o'  hearin  sometimes,  like  a  lark,)  well,  you 
heerd  nothing  but  *  Oh  no,  we  never  mention  her  ;'  well,  I 
grew  so  plagy  tired  of  it,  I  used  to  say  to  myself,  I'd  sooner 
see  it  than  heer  tell  of  it,  I  vow ;  I  wish  to  gracious  you 
•^  would  never  mention  her,'  for  it  makes  me  feel  ugly  to 


THB  OAlfOliro  MASTSR  ABROAD. 


n 


hear  that  name  thing  for  ever  and  ever  and  amen  (hat  way. 
Well,  they've  got  a  cant  phrusio  here,  '  the  schoolmaster  is 
abroad/  and  every  fdler  tells  you  that  filly  times  a-dny. 

There  was  a  chan  said  to  me  not  long  ago  at  Truro,  Mr. 
Slick,  this  country  is  rapidly  improving,  *  the  schoolmaster 
is  abrood  now,*  and  ho  looked  as  knowin  as  though  ho  had 
found  a  mare*s  neat.  So  I  should  think,  said  I,  and  it  would 
jist  be  about  as  well,  I  guess,  if  he'd  stay  to  home  and  mind 
lis  business,  for  your  folks  are  so  consoomedly  ignorant, 
I  reckon  he's  abroad  eon  amost  alt  his  time.  I  ho[)e, 
when  he  returns,  he'll  be  the  bettt^r  of  his  travels,  and 
that's  more  nor  many  of  our  young  folks  arc  who  go 
*  abroad,'  for  they  import  more  airs  and  nonsense  than  they 
dispose  of  one  while,  I  tell  you — some  of  the  stock  remfuns 
on  hand  all  the  rest  of  their  lives.  There's  nothin  1  hate 
so  much  as  cant,  of  all  kinds;  its  a  sure  sign  of  a  tricky 
disposition.  If  you  see  a  feller  cant  in  religion,  clap  your 
huiid  into  your  pocket,  and  lay  right  iiold  of  your  puss,  or 
he'll  steal  it,  as  sure  as  you're  alive ;  and  if  a  man  cant  in 
politics,  he'll  sell  you  if  he  gets  a  chance,  you  may  depend. 
Law  and  physic  arc  jist  the  same,  and  every  mite  and 
morsel  as  bad.  If  a  lawyer  takes  to  cantin,  it's  like  the  fox 
preachin  to  the  geese,  he'll  eat  up  his  whole  congregation  ; 
and  if  a  doctor  takes  to  it,  he's  a  quack  as  sure  as  rates. 
The  Lord  have  massy  on  you,  for  he  v/ont.  I'd  sooner 
trust  my  chance  with  a  naked  hook  any  time,  than  one 
that's  halt'-covered  with  bad  bait.  The  fish  will  sometimes 
swallow  the  one,  without  thinkin,  but  they  get  frightened  at 
tother,  turn  tail,  and  off  like  a  shot. 

Now,  to  change  the  tune,  I'll  give  the  blue-noses  a  new 
phrase.  They'll  have  an  election  most  likely  next  year, 
and  then  *  the  Dancin  Master  will  be  abroadJ'  A  candidate 
is  a  most  particular  polite  man,  and  a  noddin  here,  and  a 
bowin  there,  and  a  shakin  hands  all  round.  Nothin  im- 
proves a  man's  manners  like  an  election.  *  The  Dancin 
Master'*  abroad  then;*  nothin  gives  the  paces  equal  to  that, 
it  makes  them  as  squirmy  as  an  eel ;  they  cross  hands  and 
back  agin,  set  to  their  partners  and  right  and  left  in  great 
style,  and  slick  it  off  at  the  eend,  with  a  real  complete  bow 
and  a  smile  for  all  the  world  as  sweet  as  a  cat  makes  at  a 


.;i 


LJ:.  -  W    t-   •*.* 


74 


TH£  CLOCKMAXBR. 


pan  of  new  milk.  Then  they  get  as  full  of  compliment!) 
as  a  dog  is  full  of  fleas  — enquirin  how  the  old  lady  is  to 
home,  and  the  little  boy  that  made  such  a  wonderful  smart 
answer,  they  never  can  forget  it  till  next  time;  a  praisin  a 
man^s  farms  to  the  nines,  and  a  tellin  of  him  how  scanda- 
lous the  road  that  lends  to  his  location  has  been  neglected, 
and  how  much  he  wants  to  find  a  real  complete  hand  that 
can  build  a  bridge  over  his  brook,  and  axin  him  if  he  ever 
built  one.  When  he  gets  the  hook  baited  with  the  right  fly, 
and  the  simple  critter  begins  to  jump  out  of  water  arter  it, 
all  mouth  and  gills,  he  winds  up  the  reel,  and  takes  leave, 
athinkin  to  himself,  *  now  you  see  what's  to  the  eend  of 
my  line,  I  guess  I'll  know  where  to  find  you  when  I 
want  you.' 

There's  no  sort  of  fishin  requires  so  much  practice  as 
this.  When  bait  is  scarce,  one  worm  must  answer  for 
several  fish.  A  handful  of  oats  in  a  pan,  arter  it  brings 
one  horse  up  in  a  pastur  for  the  bridle,  serves  for  another  • 
a  shakin  of  it,  is  better  than  a  givin  of  it — it  saves  the  grain 
for  another  time.  Its  a  poor  business  arter  all,  is  elec- 
tioneering, and  when  *  the  Dancin  Ma^cr  is  abroad,''  he's 
as  apt  to  teach  a  man  to  cut  capers  and  get  larfed  at  as 
anything  else.  It  tante  every  one  that's  soopl"^  enough  to 
dance  real  complete.  Politics  takes  a  great  deal  of  time, 
and  grinds  away  a  man's  honesty  near  about  as  fast  as 
cleaning  a  knife  with  brick  dust,  ^it  takes  its  steel  out.* 
What  does  a  critter  get  arter  all  for  it  in  this  country,  why 
nothin  but  expense  and  disappointment.  As  King  Solo- 
mon says,  (and  that  are  man  was  up  to  a  thing  or  two, 
you  may  depend,  tho'  our  professor  did  say  he  warn't  so 
knowin  as  Uncle  Sam,)  its  all  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit. 

I  raised  a  four  year  old  colt  once,  half  blood,  a  perfect 
pictur  of  a  horse,  and  a  genuine  clipper,  could  gallop  like 
the  wind ;  a  real  daisy,  a  perfect  doll,  had  an  eye  like  a 
weazel,  and  nostril  like  Commodore  Rogers's  speaking 
truriipet.  Well,  I  took  it  down  to  the  races  at  New  York, 
and  father  he  went  along  with  r^"  Tor  says  he.  Sam,  you 
don't  know  every  thing,  I  gueso  you  hant  cut  your  wisdom 
teeth  yet,  and  you  are  goin  among  them  that's  had  'cm 
ihrough  their  gums  this  while  past.  Well,  when  we  gets 
to  the  races,  father  he  gets  colt  and  puts  him  in  an  old 


THE   DANCING    MASTER   ABROAD. 


75 


spirit. 

)erfect 
ap  like 

like  a 
eaking 

York, 

I,  you 
i^isdom 
id  'cm 
gets 
■an  old 


waggon,  with  a  worn-out  Dutch  harness,  and  breast  band , 
he  looked  like  Old  Nick  that's  a  fact.  Then  he  fastened  a 
head  martingale  on,  and  buckled  it  to  the  girths  atwixt  his 
fore  legs.  Says  I,  father,  what  on  airth  ai"e  you  at.  I  vow 
I  feel  ashamed  to  be  seen  with  such  a  catamaran  as  that, 
and  colt  looks  like  old  Saytan  himself — no  soul  would 
know  him.  I  guess  I  warn't  born  yesterday,  says  he,  let 
me  be,  I  now  what  I  am  at.  I  guess  I'll  slip  it  into  'em 
afore  I've  done,  as  slick  as  a  whistle.  I  guess  I  can  see 
as  far  into  a  millstone  as  the  best  on  'em. 

Well,  father  never  entered  the  horse  at  all,  but  stood  by 
and  seed  the  races,  and  the  winnin  horse  was  followed 
about  by  the  matter  of  two  or  three  thousand  people  a 
praisin  of  him  and  admirin  him.  They  seemed  as  if  they 
never  had  seed  a  horse  afore.  The  owner  of  him  was  all 
up  on  eend  a  boastin  of  him,  and  a  stumpin  the  course  to 
produce  a  horse  to  run  agin  him  for  four  hundred  dollars. 
Father  goes  up  to  him,  lookin  as  soft  as  dough,  and  as 
meechin  as  you  please,  and  says  he,  friend,  it  tante  every 
one  that  has  four  hundred  dollars — its  a  plaguy  sight  of 
money,  I  tell  you ;  would  you  run  for  one  hundred  dollars, 
and  give  me  a  little  start  ?  if  you  would,  I'd  try  my  colt  out 
of  my  old  waggon  agin  you,  I  vow.  Let's  look  at  your 
horse,  says  he  ;  so  away  they  went,  and  a  proper  sight  of 
people  arter  them  to  look  at  Cvolt,  and  when  they  seed  him 
they  sot  up  such  a  larf,  I  felt  een  a  most  ready  to  cry  for 
spite.  Says  I  to  myself,  what  can  possess  the  old  man  to 
act  arter  that  fashion,  I  do  believe  he  has  taken  leave  of  his 
senses.  Yoa  need'nt  lurf,  says  father,  he's  smarter  than 
he  looks ;  our  Minister's  old  horse,  Captain  Jack,  is  reck- 
oned as  quick  a  beast  of  his  age  as  any  in  our  location, 
and  that  are  colt  can  beat  him  for  a  lick  of  u  quarter  of  a 
mile  quite  easy — I  seed  it  myself.  Well,  they  larfed  agin 
louder  than  before,  and  says  father,  if  you  dispute  my 
word,  try  me;  what  odds  will  you  give''  Two  to  one,  says 
the  owner — 800  to  400  dollars.  Well,  that's  a  great  ileal 
of  money,  aint  it,  says  father ;  if  I  was  to  lose  it  I'd  look 
pretty  foolish  wouid'nt  I.  How  folks  would  pass  their 
jokes  at  me  when  I  v/ent  home  again.  You  wouid'nt  take 
tnat  are  waggon  and  harness  for  fifty  dollars  of  it,  would 
you]  says  he.     Well,  says  the  other,  sooner  than  disap- 


i-T. 


76 


THE   CLOCKHAKER. 


point  you,  as  you  seem  to  have  set  your  mind  on  losing 
your  money,  I  don't  care  if  I  do. 

As  soon  as  it  was  settled,  father  drives  off  to  the  stables, 
and  then  returns  mounted,  with  a  red  silk  pocket  handker- 
chief tied  round  his  head,  and  colt  a  looking  like  himself, 
ns  proud  as  a  nabob,  chock  full  of  spring  like  the  wire 
eend  of  a  bran  new  pair  of  trowser  gallusses — one  said 
that's  a  plaguy  nice  lookin  colt  that  old  feller  has  arter  all ; 
that  horse  will  show  play  for  it  yet,  says  a  third ;  and  I 
heerd  one  feller  say,  I  guess  that's  a  regular  yankee  trick, 
a  complete  take  in.  They  had  a  fair  start  for  it,  and  off 
they  sot,  father  took  the  lead  and  kept  it,  and  won  the  race, 
tho'  it  was  a  pretty  tight  scratch,  for  father  was  loo  old 
to  ride  colt,  he  was  near  about  the  matter  of  seventy  years 
old. 

Well,  when  the  colt  was  walked  round  after  the  race, 
there  was  an  amazin  crowd  arter  him,  and  several  wanted 
to  buy  him ;  but  says  father,  how  am  I  to  get  home  with- 
out him,  and  what  shall  I  do  with  that  are  v/aggon  and 
harness  so  far  as  I  be  from  Slickville.  So  he  kept  them 
in  talk,  till  he  felt  their  pulse  pretty  well,  and  at  last  he 
closed  with  a  Southerner  for  700  dollars,  and  we  returned, 
having  made  a  considerable  good  spec  of  colt.  Says 
father  to  me,  Sam,  says  he,  you  seed  the  crowd  a  follerin 
the  winnin  horse,  when  we  came  there,  didn't  you  ?  Yes, 
sir,  said  I,  I  did.  Well,  when  colt  beat  him,  no  one  fol- 
lered  him  at  all,  but  come  a  crowded  about  him.  That's 
popularity,  said  he,  soon  won,  soon  lost— cried  up  sky 
high  one  minute,  and  deserted  the  next,  or  run  down  ;  colt 
will  share  the  same  fate.  He'll  get  beat  afore  long,  and 
then  he's  done  for.  The  multitude  are  always  fickle 
minded.  Our  great  Washington  found  that  out,  and  the 
British  officer  that  beat  Buonaparte ;  the  bread  they  gave 
him  turned  sour  afore  he  got  half  through  the  loaf.  His 
soap  had  hardly  stiffened  afore  it  ran  right  back  to  lye  and 
grease  agin. 

I  was  sarved  the  same  way,  I  liked  to  have  missed  my 
pension — the  Committee  said  I  warn't  at  Bunker's  hill,  at 
all,  the  villans.  That  was  a  glo  ■  ,  (thnks  I,  old  boy, 
if  you  once  get  into  that  arc  field,  you'll  race  longer  than 
ooll,  a  plaguy  sight ;  you'll  run  clear  away  to  the  fence, 


THE    DANCING    MASTER    ABROAD. 


77 


to  the  far  eend  afore  you  stop,  so  I  jisi  cut  in  and  t(x>k  a 
hand  myself.)  Yes,  says  I,  you  did  'em  father,  properly, 
that  old  waggon  was  a  bright  scheme,  it  led  'em  on  till 
you  got  'em  on  the  right  spot,  did'nt  it?  Says  father, 
There's  a  morale,  Sam,  tn  every  thing  in  nalur.  Never 
have  nothin  to  do  with  elections,  you  see  the  valy  of  popu- 
larity in  the  case  of  that  are  horse — sarve  the  public  999 
times,  and  the  1000th,  if  they  don't  agree  with  you,  they 

~  desart  and  abuse  you — see  how  they  sarved  old  John  Adams, 
see  how  they  let  Jefferson  starve  in  his  old  age,  see  how 
good  old  Munroe  like  to  have  got  right  into  jail,  after  his 
term  of  President  was  up.  They  may  talk  of  independence, 
says  father,  but  Sam,  I'll  tell  you  what  indej:)endence  is-  - 
and  he  gave  his  hands  a  slap  agin  his  trowsers  pocket, 
and  made  the  gold  eagles  he  won  at  the  race  all  jingle  agin 
— that,  says  he,  giving  them  another  wipe  with  his  fist, 
(and  winkin  as  much  as  to  say  do  you  hear  that,  my  boy) 
that  I  callindependence.  He  was  in  great  spirits,  the  old 
man,  he  was  so  proud  of  winnin  the  race,  and  puttin  the 
leake  into  the  New  Yorkers — he  looked  all  dander.  Let 
them  great  hungry,  ill  favoured,  long  legged  bitterns,  says 
he,  (only  he  called  them  by  another  name  that  don't  sound 
quite  pretty)  from  the  outlandish  states  to  Congress,  talk 
about  independence ;  but  Sam,  said  he,  (hitting  the  shiners 
agin  till  he  made  them  dance  right  up  an  ecud  in  his  pocket) 
/  like  to  feel  it. 

No,  Sam,  said  he,  line  the  pocket  well  first,  make  that 
independent,  and  then  the  spirit  will  be  like  a  horse  turned 
out  to  grass  in  the  spring,  lor  the  first  tim-? ;  he's  all  head 
and  tail,  a  snortin  and  kickin  and  racin  ai:;d  carrying  on 
like  mad — it  soon  gets  independent  too.  While  it's  in  the 
stall  it  mp.y  hold  up,  and  paw,  and  whiner,  and  leel  as 
spry  as  any  thing,  but  the  leather  strap  keeps  it  to  the 
manger,  and  the  lead  weight  to  the  ecnd  of  it  makes  it  hold 
down  its  head  at  last.  No,  says  he,  here's  independence, 
and  he  gave  the  eagles  such  a  drive  with  his  fist,  lie  bust 
his  pocket,  and  sent  a  whole  raft  of  them  a  spiiiniu  down 

^his  leg  to  the  ground.  Says  I.  Father,  (and  i  swear  f 
could  hardly  keep  from  larfin,  he  looked  so  pesk'ly  vexed) 
Father,  says  I,  I  guess  there's  a  moral  in  that  are  too — 
Extremes  nary  way  are  none  o'  the  best.     Well,  well,  says 


•f'^ 


78 


THE   CLOGKMAKBilt. 


he,  (kinder  snappishly)  I  suppose  you're  half  right,  Sam, 
but  we've  said  enou-jh  about  it,  lets  drop  the  subject  and 
see  if  I  have  picked  em  all  up,  tor  my  eyes  are  none  of  the 
best  now,  I'm  near  hand  to  seventy. 


';  CHAPTER  XVI. 

J       MR.  SUCK'S  OPINION  OF  THE  BRITISH. 

What  success  had  you,  said  I,  in  the  sale  of  your 
(/locks  among  the  Scotch  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  Pro- 
vince? do  you  find  them  as  gullible  as  the  blue-noses? 
Well,  said  he,  you  have  heerd  tell  that  a  Yankee  never 
answers  one  question,  without  axing  another,  havent  you  ? 
Did  you  ever  see  an  English  Stage  Driver  make  a  bow  ? 
because  if  you  hante  obsarved  it,  I  have,  and  a  queer  one 
it  is,  I  sv/an.  He  brings  his  right  arm  up,  jist  across 
his  face,  and  passes  on,  with  a  knowin  nod  of  his  head, 
as  much  as  to  say,  how  do  you  do :  but  keep  clear  o' 
my  wheels,  or  I'll  fetch  your  horses  a  lick  in  the  mouth 
as  sure  as  you're  born ;  jist  as  a  bear  puts  up  his  paw  to 
fend  off  the  blow  of  a  stick  from  his  nose.  Well,  that's 
the  way  I  pass  them  are  bare  breeched  Scotchmen.  Lord, 
if  they  were  located  down  in  these  here  Cumberland 
mashes,  how  the  musquitoes  would  tickle  them  up,  would'nt 
they  ?  They'd  set  'em  scratchin  thereabouts,  as  an  Irish- 
man does  his  head,  when  he's  in  sarch  of  a  lie.  Them 
are  fellers  cut  their  eye  teeth  afore  they  ever  sot  foot  in 
this  country,  I  expect.  When  they  get  a  bawbee,  they 
know  what  to  do  with  it,  that's  a  fact ;  they  open  their 
pouch  and  drop  it  in,  and  its  got  a  spring  like  a  fox-tran 
— it  holds  fast  to  all  it  gets,  like  grim  death  to  a  dead  nijr 
ger.  They  are  proper  skin  flints,  you  m^y  depend.  Oat- 
meal is  no  great  shakes  at  best ;  it  tante  even  as  good  for 
a  horse  as  real  yaller  Varginy  com,  bi.c  I  gu{!ss  I  warnt 
long  in  finding  out  that  the  grits  hardly  pay  for  the  riddlin 
No,  a  Yankee  has  as  little  chance  among  them  as  a  Jew 
nas  in  New  England  ;  the  sooner  he  clears  out  the  better 


mi 


-rj 


MR.   slick's  OPINIO!?,    ETC. 


79 


A  V 


-tran 


You  can  no  more  put  a  leake  into  them,  than  you  can  send 
a  chig'^l  into  Tcaite-wood — it  turns  the  edge  of  the  tool  the 
firet  drive.  If  the  blue-noses  knew  the  value  of  money  as 
well  as  they  do,  they'd  have  more  cash,  and  fewer  clocks 
and  tin  reilectors,  I  reckon. 

Now,  its  diflerent  with  the  Irish  ;  they  never  carry  a 
puss,  for  they  never  have  a  cent  to  put  in  it.  They  are 
always  in  love  or  in  liquor,  or  else  in  a  row ;  they  are  the 
merriest  shavers  I  ever  seed.  Judge  Beeler,  I  dare  say 
you  have  heerd  tell  of  him — he's  a  fi:nny  feller — he  put  a 
notice  over  his  factory  gate  at  Lowell,  *  no  cigars  or  Irish- 
men admitted  within  these  walls ;'  for,  said  he,  the  one  will 
set  a  flame  agoin  among  my  cottoj:iS,  and  t'other  ar.  .ong  my 
galls.  I  wont  have  no  such  aiflammable  and  dangerous 
things  about  me  on  no  account.  When  the  British  wanted 
our  folks  to  join  in  the  treaty  to  chock  the  wheels  of  the 
slave  trade,  I  recollect  hearin  old  John  Adams  say,  we  had 
ought  to  humour  them ;  for,  says  he,  they  supply  us  with 
labour  on  easier  terms,  by  shippin  out  the  Irish.  Says  he, 
they  work  better,  and  they  work  cheaper,  and  they  dont 
li\  e  so  long.  The  blacks,  when  they  are  past  work,  hang 
on  for  ever,  and  a  proper  bill  of  expence  they  be ;  but  hot 
weather  and  new  rum  rub  out  the  poor  rates  for  tother 
ones. 

The  English  are  the  t>oys  for  tradin  with  ;  they  shell  out 
their  cash  like  a  sheaf  of  wheat  in  frosty  weather — it  flies 
all  over  the  thrashin  floor ;  but  then  they  are  a  cross  grain- 
ed, ungainly,  kicken  breed  of  cattle,  as  I  cen  a  most  ever 
seed.  Whoever  gave  them  the  name  of  John  Bull,  knew 
what  he  was  about,  I  tell  you  ;  for  they  are  all  bull-necked, 
bull-headed  folks,  I  vow ;  sulky,  ugly  tempered,  vicious 
critters,  a  pawin  and  a  roarin  the  whole  time,  and  plaguy 
onsafe  unless  well  watched.  They  are  as  head-strong  as 
mules,  and  as  conceited  as  peacocks. 

The  astonishment  with  which  I  heard  this  tirade  agamst 
my  countrymen,  absorbed  every  feeling  of  resentment.  I 
listened  with  amazement  at  the  perfect  composure  with 
which  he  uttered  it.  He  treated  it  as  one  of  those  self- 
evident  truths,  that  need  neither  proof  nor  apology,  but  as 
a  thing  well  known  and  admitted  by  all  mankind. 

There's  no  richer  sight  that  I  know  of,  said  he,  than  tc 


m- 


80 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


see  one  on  *em  when  he  first  lands  in  one  of  our  great  cUies. 
Be  swells  out  as  big  as  a  balloon,  his  skin  is  ready  to  burst 
with  wind — a  regular  walking  bag  of  gas;  and  he  prances 
over  the  pavement  like  a  bear  over  hot  iron — a  great  awk- 
ward hulk  of  a  feller,  (for  they  aint  to  be  compared  to  the 
French  in  manners)  a  smirkin  at  you,  as  much  as  to  say, 
*  look  here,  Jonathan,  here's  an  Englishman ;  here's  a  boy 
that's  got  blood  as  pure  as  a  Norman  pirate,  and  lots  of  the 
blunt  of  both  kinds,  a  pocket  full  of  one,  and  a  mouthful 
of  tother '.  beant  he  lovely  1'  and  then  he  looks  as  fierce  as 
a  tiger,  as  muck  as  to  say,  *  say  boo  to  a  goose,  if  you 
dare.' 

No,  I  believe  we  may  stump  the  univarse ;  we  improve 
on  every  thing,  and  we  have  improved  on  our  own  species. 
You'll  search  one  while,  I  tell  you,  afore  you'll  find  a  man 
that,  take  him  by  and  large,  is  equal  to  one  of  our  free  and 
enlightened  citizens.  He's  the  chap  that  has  both  speed, 
wind,  and  bottom ;  he's  clear  grit — ginger  to  the  back  bone, 
you  may  depend.  Its  generally  allowed  there  aint  the  beat 
>f  them  to  be  fqund  any  where.  Spry  as  a  fox,  supple  as 
an  eel,  and  cute  as  a  weasel.  Though  I  say  it,  that 
shouldn't  say  it,  they  fairly  take  the  shine  off  creation — 
they  are  actilly  equal  to  cash. 

He  looked  like  a  man  who  felt  that  he  had  expressed 
himself  so  aptly  and  so  well,  that  any  thing  additional 
would  only  weaken  its  effect;  he  therefore  changed  the 
conversation  immediately,  by  pointing  to  a  tree  at  some  lit- 
tle distance  from  the  house,  and  remarking  that  it  was  the 
rock  maple  or  sugar  tree.  Its  a  pretty  tree,  said  he,  and  a 
profitable  one  too  to  raise.  It  will  bear  tapping  for  many 
years,  tho'  it  gets  exhausted  at  last. 

This  Province  is  like  that  are  tree:  it  is  tapped  till  it 
begins  to  die  at  the  top,  and  if  they  dont  drive  in  a  spile 
and  stop  the  everlastin  flow  of  the  sap,  it  will  perish  all 
together.  All  the  money  that's  made  here,  all  the  interest 
that's  paid  on  it,  and  a  pretty  considerable  portion  of  rent 
too,  all  goes  abroad  for  investment,  and  the  rest  is  sent  to 
us  to  buy  bread.  It's  drained  like  a  bog,  it  has  opened  and 
covered  trenches  all  through  it,  and  then  there's  others  to 
Che  foot  of  the  upland  to  cut  off  the  springs. 
„  Now  you  may  maice  even  a  bog  too  dry ;  you  may  take 


MR.   SLICK*S  OPINlOir,    ETC. 


m 


till  it 

spile 

Ish  all 

iterest 

rent 

!nt  to 

and 

;rs  to 

take 


the  ntioisture  out  to  that  degree,  that  the  very  sile  becomes 
dust,  and  blows  awny.  The  English  funds,  and  our  banks, 
railroads,  and  canals,  are  all  absorbing  your  capital  like  a 
spunge,  and  will  lick  it  up  as  fast  as  you  can  make  it. 
1  hat  very  bridge  we  heerd  of  at  Windsor,  is  owned  in 
New  Brunswick,  and  will  pay  toll  to  that  province.  'I'he 
capitalists  of  Nova  Scotia  treat  it  like  a  hired  house,  they 
wont  keep  it  in  repair ;  they  neither  paint  it  to  presarve  the 
boards,  nor  stop  a  leak  to  keep  the  frame  from  rottin  ;  but 
let  it  go  to  wrack  sooner  than  drive  a  nail  or  put  in  a  pane 
of  glass.     It  will  sarve  our  turn  cut,  they  say. 

There's  neither  spirit,  enterprise,  nor  patriotism  here; 
but  the  whole  country  is  as  inactive  as  a  bear  in  winter, 
that  does  nothin  but  scroutch  up  in  his  den,  a  thinkin  to 
himself,  "  Well,  if  I  ant  an  unfortunate  divil,  it's  a  pity ;  I 
have  a  most  splendid  warm  coat  as  are  a  gentleman  in 
these  here  woods,  let  him  be  who  he  will ;  but  I  got  no  socles 
to  my  feet,  and  have  to  sit  for  everlastingly  a  suckin  of  my 
paws  to  keep  'em  warm  ;  if  it  warn't  for  that,  I  guess  I'd 
make  some  o'  them  chaps  that  have  hoofs  to  their  feet  and 
horns  to  their  heads,  look  about  them  pretty  sharp,  I  know. 
It's  dismal,  now  aint  it?" If  I  had  the  framin  of  the  Govcr- 
nor's  message,  if  I  wouldn't  show  'em  how  to  put  timber  to- 
gether  you  may  depend ;  I'd  make  them  scratch  their  heads 
and  stare,  I  know. 

1  went  down  to  Matanzas  in  the  Fulton  Steam  Boat  once 
— well  it  was  the  first  of  the  kind  they  ever  seed,  and  pro- 
per scared  they  were  to  see  a  vessel  without  sails  or  oars, 
goin  right  straight  ahead,  nine  knots  an  hour,  in  the  very 
wind's  eye,  and  a  great  streak  of  smoke  arter  her  as  long 
as  the  tail  of  a  comet.  I  believe  they  thought  it  was  Old 
Nick  alive,  a  trcatin  himself  to  a  swim.  You  could  see 
the  niggers  a  clippin  it  away  from  the  shore,  for  dear  life, 
and  the  soldiers  a  movin  about  as  if  they  thought  that  we 
were  agoin  to  take  the  whole  country.  Presently  a  little, 
half-starved,  orange  coloured  looking  Spanish  ofHccr,  all 
dressed  off  in  his  livery,  as  fine  as  a  fiddle,  came  off  with 
two  men  in  a  boat  to  board  us.  Wei',  we  yawed  once  or 
twice,  and  motioned  to  him  to  keep  off  for  fear  he  should 
get  hurt ;  but  he  came  right  on  afore  the  wheel,  and  I  hope 
I  may  be  shot  if  the  paddle  didn't  strike  the  bow  of  the  boat 


V 


^t 


1^  /   ;     THE  CLOCKMAKBR.     ■'• 

with  that  force,  it  knocked  up  the  starn  like  a  plank  till, 
when  one  of  the  boys  playing  on  it  is  heavier  than  t'other, 
and  chucked  him  right  atop  of  the  wheel  house — you  never 
see'd  a  fellow  in  such  a  dunderment  in  your  life.  He  had 
picked  up  a  little  English  from  seein  our  folks  there  so 
much,  and  when  he  got  up,  the  first  thing  he  said  was, 
'  Damn  all  sheenery,  I  say,  where's  my  boat  V  and  he  look- 
ed round  as  if  he  thought  it  had  jumped  on  board  too. 
Your  boat,  said  the  Captain,  why  I  expect  it's  gone  to  the 
bottom,  and  your  men  have  gone  down  to  look  arter  it,  for 
we  never  see'd  or  heerd  tell  of  one  or  t'other  of  them  arter 
the  boat  was  struck.  Yes,  I'd  make  'em  stare  like  that  are 
Spanish  officer,  as  if  they  had  see'd  out  of  their  eyes  for 
the  first  time.  Governor  Campbell  didn't  expect  to  see  such 
a  country  as  this  when  he  came  here,  I  reckon,  I  know  he 
didn't. 

When  I  was  a  little  boy,  about  knee  high  or  so,  and  lived 
down  Connecticut  river,  mother  used  to  say,  Sam,  if  you 
don't  jiive  over  acting  so  like  old  Scratch,  I'll  send  you  off 
to  Nova  Scotia,  as  sure  as  you  are  born,  I  will,  I  vow. 
Well,  Lord,  how  that  are  used  to  frighten  me  ;  it  made  my 
hair  stand  right  up  on  eend,  like  a  cat's  back  when  she's 
wratliy  ;  it  made  me  drop  it  as  quick  as  wink — like  a  tin 
night  cap  put  on  a  dipt  candle  agoin  to  bed,  it  put  the  fun 
right  out.  Neighbour  Dearborn's  darter  married  a  gentle- 
man to  Yarmouth,  that  speculates  in  the  smuggling  line : 
well  when  she  went  on  board  to  sail  down  to  Nova  Scotia, 
all  her  folks  took  on  as  if  it  was  a  funeral ;  they  said  she 
was  goin  to  be  buried  alive,  like  the  nuns  in  Portengale 
that  get  a  fi'olickin,  break  out  of  the  pastur,  and  race  off, 
and  get  catched  and  brought  back  agin.  Says  the  old 
Colonel,  her  father,  Deliverance,  my  dear,  I  would  sooner 
foller  you  to  your  grave,  for  that  would  be  an  eend  to  your 
troubles,  than  to  see  you  go  off  to  that  dismal  country, 
that's  nothin  but  an  iceburg  aground  ;  and  he  howled  as 
loud  as  an  Irishman  that  trios  to  wake  his  wife  when  she  is 
dead.  Awful  accounts  we  have  of  the  country,  that's  a 
fact  ;  but  if  the  Province  is  not  so  bad  as  they  make  it  out, 
the  folks  are  a  thousand  times  worse. 

You've  seen  a  flock  of  partridges  of  a  frosty  mornin  in 
the  fall,  a  crowdin  out  of  the  shade  to  a  sunny  spot,  and 


pooner 

your 

mtry, 

as 

she  is 

It's  a 

out, 


MR.   SLICK  ft  OPlNIOKi  KTC.  ^& 

huddlin  up  there  in  the  warmth — well,  the  blue-noses  have 
nothin  else  to  do  half  the  time  but  sun  themselves.  Whose 
fault  is  that?  Why  its  the  fault  of  the  legislature?  they 
don't  encourage  internal  improvement,  nor  the  investment  of 
capital  in  the  country  /  nd  the  result  is  apathy j  iniction, 
and  poverty.  They  speu  i  three  months  in  Halifax,  and 
what  do  they  do  ?  Father  gave  me  a  dollar  once,  to  go  to 
the  fair  at  Hartford,  and  when  I  came  back,  says  he,  Sam, 
what  have  you  got  to  show  for  it  ?  Now  I  ax  what  have 
they  to  show  for  their  three  months*  setting  ?  They  mislead 
folks  ;  they  make  'em  believe  all  the  use  of  the  Assembly 
is  to  bark  at  Councillors,  Judges,  Bankers,  and  such  cattle, 
to  keep  'em  from  eatin  up  the  crops,  and  it  actilly  costs 
more  to  feed  them  when  they  are  watchin,  than  all  the 
others  could  eat  if  they  did  break  a  fence,  and  get  in. 
Indeed,  soi  le  folks  say  they  are  the  m<^'St  breachy  of  the 
two,  and  c~^\\t  to  go  to  pound  themselves.  If  their  fences 
are  good,  them  hungry  cattle  couldn't  break  through ;  and 
if  they  aint,  they  ought  to  stake  'em  up,  and  with  them 
well ;  but  ifs  no  use  to  make  fences  unless  the  land  is  culti- 
vated. If  rsee  a  farm  all  gone  to  wrack,  I  say  here's  bad 
husbandry  and  bad  management ;  and  if  I  see  a  Province 
like  this,  of  great  capacity,  and  great  natural  resources, 
poverty-stricken,  I  say,  there's  bad  legislation. 

No,  said  he,  (with  an  air  of  more  seriousness  than  I  had 
yet  observed,)  how  much  it  is  to  be  regretted,  that,  laying 
aside  personal  attacks  and  petty  jealousies  they  would  unite 
as  one  mun,  and  with  one  mind  and  one  hjrt  apply  them 
selves  sedulously  to  the  internal  improvemeul  and  develop 
ment  of  this  beautiful  Province.  Its  oalius  is  utterly 
unJcnotpn,  either  to  the  general  or  local  Government,  and  the 
only  persons  who  duly  appreciate  it^  are  the  Yankees. 


|iu  m 
and 


yit 


64 


THE   CLOOKMAKBR. 


•    «' 


.  1  I  •l.l' 


"    "  '  CHAPTER  XVII. 

'  '    •         A  YANKEE  HANDLE  FOU  A  HALIFAX  BLADE.       ^ 

I  HLKT  a  man  this  mornin,  said  the  Clockmaker,  from 
Halifax,  a  real  conceited  lookin  critter  as  you  een  a  most 
ever  seed,  all  shines  and  didos.  He  looked  as  if  he  had 
picked  up  his  airs  arter  some  otficer  of  the  regilars  had 
w.^rn  'em  out  and  cast  'em  off.  They  sot  on  him  like  se- 
cond-hand clothes,  as  if  they  had'nt  been  made  for  him  and 
did'nt  exactly  fit.  Ho  looked  fine,  but  awkward,  like  a 
captain  of  militia,  when  he  gets  his  uniform  on,  to  play 
sodger;  a  thinkin  himself  mighty  hand«ww,  and  thut  all 
the  world  is  a  lookin  at  him.  He  marched  up  and  down 
afore  the  street  door  like  a  peacock,  as  largo  as  life  and 
twice  as  natural ;  he  had  a  riding  whip  in  his  hand,  and 
every  now  and  then  struck  it  agin  his  thigh,  as  much  as  to 
say,  Aint  that  a  splendid  leg  for  a  boot,  now  ?  Won't  I  as- 
tonish the  Amhex'st  folks,  that's  all  ?  Thinks  I  you  are  u 
pretty  blade,  aint  you  ?  I'd  like  to  fit  a  Yankee  handle  on 
to  you,  that's  a  ikct.  When  I  came  up,  he  held  up  his  hnad 
near  about  gs  high  as  a  shot  factory,  and  stood  with  his 
fists  on  his  aip--,  and  eyed  me  from  head  to  loot,  as  a 
shakin  qupkor  docs  a  town  lady :  as  much  as  to  say,  what 
a  queer  critter  you  be,  that's  toggery  I  never  seed  afore, 
you're  some  carnal  minded  maiden,  that's  sartain. 

Well,  says  he  to  me,  with  the  air  of  a  man  that  chucks 
a  cent  into  a  beggar's  hat,  a  fine  day  this,  sir.  Do  you 
actilly  think  so?  said  I,  and  I  gave  it  the  real  Connecticut 
drawl.  Why,  said  he,  quite  short,  if  I  did'nt  think  so,  I 
would'nt  say  so.  Well,  says  I,  I  don't  know,  but  if  I  did 
think  so,  I  guess  I  would'nt  say  so.  Why  not  ?  says  he — 
Because,  I  expect,  says  I,  any  fool  could  see  that  as  well 
as  me;  and  then  1  stared  at  him,  as  much  as  to  say,  now 
if  you  like  that  are  swap,  I  am  ready  to  trade  with  you 
agin  as  soon  as  you  like.  Well,  he  turned  right  round  on 
his  heel  and  walked  off,  a  whistlin  Yankee  Doodle  to  him- 


1 


iH  ,  -  .,      ,\  *f  ^r  •  ;"' 


."  -rj 


h 


A    YAITKBB   HANDLE,   ETC.  IP 

self.  Ho  looked  jist  like  a  man  that  finds  whlstlin  a  plaguy 
sight  easier  than  thinkin. 

Presently,  I  heard  him  ax  the  groom  who  that  are  YonKce 
lookin  feller  was.  That,  said  the  groom ;  why,  I  guess  tts 
Mr.  Slick.  Sho !  !  said  he,  how  you  talk.  What,  Slick 
the  Clockmaker,  why  it  ant  possible  ;  I  wish  I  hin  known 
that  are  afore,  I  declare,  for  I  have  a  great  ci  i<>  ,. y  to  see 
/ti/rt,  folks  say  he  is  amazin  clever  feller  thai — and  he 
tinned  and  stared,  as  if  it  was  old  Hickor'  hims(  M".  Then 
he  walked  round  and  about  like  f  pi:  md  i,,"  fence 
of  a  potato'^  field,  a  watchin  for  a  chanc  ut  in ;  so, 

(thinks  I,  I'il  jist  give  him  something  to  ''H  >ui,  when  ho 
gets  back  to  the  city,  I'll  fix  a  Yankee  .,  ">  to  iiim  ill 
no  time. 

How's  times  to  Halifax,  sir,  said  I.  —  1  says  he, 

much  better,  business  is  done  on  a  surer  bottom  than  it 
was,  and  things  look  bright  agin.  So  docs  a  candle,  say 
I,  jist  afore  it  goes  out ;  it  burns  up  ever  so  high,  and  then 
sinks  right  down,  and  loaves  nothin  behind  but  grease, 
uid  an  everlastin  bad  smell.  1  guess  they  don't  know  how 
to  feed  then  lamp,  and  it  can't  burn  long  on  nothin.  No, 
sir,  the  jig  is  up  with  Halifax,  and  it's  all  their  own  fault. 
If  a  man  sits  at  his  door,  and  sees  stray  cattle  in  his  field, 
a  eatin  up  of  hi^  crop,  and  his  neighbours  a  cartin  off  his 
grain,  and  won't  so  much  as  go  and  drive  'em  out,  why  I 
should  say  it  sarves  him  right. 

I  don't  exactly  understand,  sir,  said  he — thinks  I,  it 
would  be  strange  if  you  did,  for  I  never  see  one  of  your 
folks  yet  that  could  understand  a  hawk  from  a  handsaw. 
Well,  says  I,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  mean — draw  a  line 
from  Cape  Sable  to  Cape  Cansoo,  right  thro'  the  Province, 
and  it  will  split  it  into  two,  this  way,  and  I  cut  an  apple 
nito  two  halves ;  now,  says  I,  the  worst  half,  like  the  rotten 
iialf  of  the  apple,  belongs  to  Halifax,  and  the  other  and 
sound  half  belongs  to  St.  John.  Your  side  of  the  province 
on  the  sea-coast  is  all  stone — I  never  seed  such  a  proper 
sight  of  rocks  in  my  life,  its  enough  to  starve  a  rabbit. 
Well,  tother  side  on  the  Bay  of  Fundy  is  a  superfine 
country,  there  aint  the  beat  of  it  to  be  found  any  where. 
Now,  would'nt  the  folks  living  away  up  to  the  Bay  be 
pretty  fools  to  go  to  Halifax,  when  they  can  go  to  St.  John 
8 


"A 


,.'^.. 


^r^x. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


1.0 


I.I 


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us 

IK 


2.0 


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urn 


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« 6"     

► 

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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


%X^^ 


^ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


\ 


;-r,7- 


Itf  .">%..  THE  CLOCKMAKER.     } 

with  half  the  trouble.  St.  John  is  the  natural  capital  of  the 
Bay  of  Fundy,  it  will  be  the  largest  city  in  America,  next 
to  New  York.  It  has  an  immense  back  country  as  big  as 
Great  Britain,  a  first  chop  river,  and  amazin  sharp  folks, 
most  as  cuto  as  the  Yankees — its  a  splendid  location  for 
business.  Well,  they  draw  all  the  produce  of  the  Bay 
shores,  and  where  the  produce  goes  the  supplies  return — it 
will  take  the  whole  Irade  of  the  Province ;  I  guess  your 
rich  folks  will  find  they've  burnt  their  fingers,  they've  put 
their  foot  in  it,  that's  a  fact.  Houses  without  tenants— 
whaives  without  shipping,  a  town  without  people — what  a 
grund  investment ! !  If  you  have  any  loose  dollars,  let  'em 
out  on  a  mortgage  in  Halifax,  that's  the  security — keep 
clear  of  the  country  for  your  life — the  people  may  run, 
but  the  town  can't.  No,  take  away  the  troops,  and  you're 
done— you'll  sing  the  dead  march  folks  did  at  Louisburg 
and  Shelburne.  Why  you  hant  got  a  single  thing  worth 
havin,  but  a  good  harbour,  and  as  for  that  the  coast  is  lull 
on  'em.  You  hav'nt  a  pine  log,  a  spruce  board,  or  a  refuse 
shingle ;  you  neither  raise  wheat,  oats,  or  hay,  nor  never 
can ;  you  have  no  staples  on  airth,  unless  it  be  them 
iron  ones  for  the  padlocks  in  Bridewell — you've  sowed  pride, 
and  reaped  poverty,  take  care  of  your  crop,  for  it's  worth 
harvestin — you  have  no  river  and  no  country,  what  in  the 
name  of  fortin  have  you  to  trade  on  ? 

But,  said  he,  (and  he  showed  the  whites  of  his  eyes  like 
a  wall-eyed  horse)  but,  said  he,  Mr.  Slick,  how  is  it,  then, 
Halifax  ever  grew  at  all,  has'nt  it  got  what  it  always  had ; 
it's  no  worse  than  it  was.  I  guess,  said  I,  that  pole  aint 
strong  onough  to  bear  you,  neither ;  if  you  trust  to  that 
yoii'li  be  into  the  brook,  as  sure  as  you  are  born  ;  you  once 
had  the  trade  of  the  whole  Province,  but  St.  John  has  run 
off  with  that  now — you've  lost  all  but  your  trade  in  blue 
l)erries  and  rabbits  with  the  niggers  at  Hammond  Plains* 

You've  lost  your  customers,  your  rivals  have  a  better  stand 
for  business — they^va  got  the  corner  store— fovr  greiit 
streets  meet  there,  and  its  near  the  market  slip. 

I  Well,  he  stared;  says  he,  I  believe  you're  right,  but  I 
never  thought  of  that  afore ;  (thinks  I,  nobody  ever  susjiect 
you  of  the  trick  of  thinkin,  that  ever  I  heerd  tell  of;)  sr)me 
of  our  great  men,  said  he,  laid  it  all  to  your  fo'ks,  selling 


'**(,•"« 


A    YANKEE    HAITDLE,   ETC. 


^WB^-^ 


great 


80  many  Clocks  and  Pb'vglot  Bibles,  they  say  you  have 
taken  off  a  horrid  sight  oi'  money.  Did  they,  indeed,  said 
I ;  well,  I  guess  it  tante  jMns  and  needles  that's  the  expense- 
of  house-keepin,  it  is  something  ir.ore  costly  than  that. 
Well  some  folks  say  its  the  Banks,  says  he.  Better  still, 
says  I,  perhaps  you've  he^ni  tell  too,  that  greasing  the 
axle  makes  a  gig  harder  to  draw,  for  there's  jist  about  as 
much  sense  in  that.  Well  then,  says  he,  others  say  it'4 
smugglin  has  made  us  so  poor.  That  guess,  said  I,  itf 
most  as  good  as  tother  one,  whoever  found  out  that  secret 
ought,  to  get  a  patent  for  it,  for  its  worth  knowin.  Then 
the  country  has  grown  poorer,  has'nt  it,  because  it  has 
bought  cheaper  this  year  than  it  did  the  year  before  t  Why, 
your  folks  are  cute  chaps,  I  vow ;  they'd  puzzle  a  Philadel- 
phia Lawyer,  they  are  so  amazin  knowin.  Ah,  said  he, 
and  he  rubb'd  his  hands  and  smiled  like  a  young  doctor, 
when  he  gets  his  first  patient ;  ah,  said  he,  if  the  timber 
duties  are  altered,  down  comes  St.  John,  body  and  breeches, 
it's  built  on  a  poor  foundation — its  all  show — they  are, 
speculatin  like  mad — they'll  ruin  themselves.  Says  I,  If. 
you  wait  till  they're  dead,  for  your  fortin,  it  will  be  one 
while  I  tell  you,  afore  you  pocket  the  shiners.  Its  no  joke 
waitin  for  a  dead  man's  shoes.  Suppose  an  old  feller  of 
eighty  was-  to  say  when  that  are  young  feller  dies,  I'm  to 
inherit  his  property,  what  would  you  think?  Why,  I 
guess  you'd  think  he  was  an  old  fool.  Noy  air^  if  the 
English  don't  want  their  timber  we  do  want  it  ally  we  have 
vaed  ourn  up,  we  hant  got  a  stick  even  to  whittle.  If  the 
British  dont  offer  we  will,  and  3t.  John,  like  a  dear  little 
weeping  widow,  will  dry  up  her  tears,  and  take  to  froUckia 
agin  and  accept  it  right  off  ;  ^^  jrn:f    f"| 

There  is'nt  at  this  moment  such  a  location  hardly  in 
America,  as  St.  John ;  for  beside  all  its  other  advantages, 
it  has  this  great  one,  its  only  rival,  Halifax,  has  got  a  dose 
of  opium  that  will  send  it  snoring  out  of  the  world,  like  a 
feller  who  falls  asleep  on  the  ice  of  a  winter's  night.  •  It 
has  been  asleep  so  long,  I  actilly  think  it  never  will  wake. 
Its  an  easy  death  too,  you  may  rouse  them  up  if  you  like, 
but  I  vow  I  wont.  I  once  br  »ught  a  feller  too  that  was 
drowned,  and  one  night  he  got  drunk  and  quilted  me,  I 
could'nt  walk  'for  a  week ;  says  I,  Youre  the  last  chap  I'll 


i> 


^:\^\ 


%««■' 


\ 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


ever  snvc  from  drowning  in  all  my  born  days,  if  thafs  all 
the  thanks  I  get  for  it.  No,  sir,  Halifax  has  lost  the  run 
of  its  custom.  Who  does  Yarmouth  trade  with  ?  St.  John. 
Who  does  Annapolis  County  trade  with  ?  St.  John.  Who 
do  all  the  folks  on  the  Basin  of  Mines,  and  Bay  Shore,  trade 
with  ?  St.  John.  Who  does  Cumberland  trade  with  ?  St. 
John.  Well,  Pictou,  Lunenburg,  and  Liverpool  supply 
themselves,  and  the  rest  that  aint  wort  havin,  trade  with 
Halifax.  They  take  down  a  few  half-starved  pigs,  old 
viteran  geese,  and  long  legged  fowls,  some  ram  mutton  and 
tuf  beef,  and  swap  them  for  tea,  sugar,  and  such  little 
notions  for  their  old  women  to  home ;  while  the  railroads 
and  canals  of  St.  John  are  goin  to  cut  olT  your  Gulf  Shore 
trade  to  Miramichi,  and  along  there.  Flies  live  in  the  sum- 
mer and  die  in  winter,  you're  jist  as  noisy  in  war  as  those 
little  critters,  but  you  sing  small  in  peace.  .     -  b. 

No,  your  done  for,  you  are  up  a  tree,  you  may  depend, 
pride  must  fall.  Your  town  is  like  a  ball  room  arter  a 
dance.  The  folks  have  eat,  drank,  and  frolicked,  and  left 
an  empty  house.;  the  lamps  and  hangings  are  left,  but  the 
people  are  gone. 

Is  there  no  remedy  for  this  ?  said  he,  and  he  looked  as 
wild  as  a  Cherokee  Indian.  Thinks  I,  the  handle  is  fitten 
on  proper  tight  now.  Well,  says  I,  when  a  man  has  a 
cold,  he  had  ought  to  look  out  pretty  sharp,  afore  it  gets 
seated  on  his  lungs ;  if  he  don't,  he  gets  into  a  gallopin 
consumption,  and  it's  gone  goose  with  him.  There  is  a 
remedy,  if  applied  in  time :  make  'ailroad  to  Minas 
Basiriy  and  you  have  a  way  for  ycv  tstomers  to  get  to 
youy  and  a  conveyance  for  your  goods  to  them*  When 
I  was  in  New  York  last,  a  cousin  of  mine,  Hezekiah  Slick, 
said  to  me,  I  do  believe,  Sam,  I  shall  be  ruined ;  I've  lost 
all  my  custom,  they  are  widening  and  improving  the  streets, 
and  there's  so  many  carts  and  people  to  work  in  it,  folks 
can't  come  to  my  shop  to  trade,  what  on  airth  shall  I  do 
and  I'm  payin  a  dreadful  high  rent,  too?  Stop  Ki,  says  I 
when  the  street  is  all  finished  off  and  slicked  up,  they'll 
all  come  back  agin,  and  a  whole  raft  more  on  'em  too, 
you'll  sell  twice  as  much  as  ever  you  did,  you'll  put  off  a 
proper  swad  of  goods  next  year,  you  may  depend ;  and  so 
i»e  did,  he  made  money,  hand  over  hand.     A  railroad  will 


J*.*— (fc^j.-.*' 


.^.. 


A    YANKEB   HANDLE,  ETC. 


m 


gets 

opin 

is  a 

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ret  to 

When 

Slick, 

lost 

reets, 

folks 

I  do 

lys  I 

iey'i\ 

too, 

off  a 

id  so 

will 


bring  back  your  customers,  if  done  right  off;  but  wait  till 
trade  has  made  new  channels,  and  fairly  gets  settled  in 
them,  and  you'll  never  divart  it  agin  to  all  etarnity.  When 
a  feller  waits  till  a  gall  gets  married,  I  guess  it  will  be  too 
late  to  pop  the  question  then. 

St.  John  must  go  ahead,  at  any  rate ;  you  majfy  if  you 
choose,  but  you  must  exert  yourselves,  I  tell  you.  If  a 
man  has  only  one  leg,  and  wants  to  walk,  he  must  get  an 
artificial  one.  If  you  have  no  river,  make  a  railroad,  and 
that  will  supply  its  place.  But,  says  he,  Mr.  Slick,  people 
said  it  never  will  pay  in  the  world,  they  say  it's  as  mad  a 
scheme  as  the  canal.  Do  they,  indeed,  says  I ;  send  them 
to  me  then,  and  I'll  fit  the  handle  on  to  them  in  tu  tu's.  I 
say  it  will  pay,  and  the  best  proof  is,  our  folks  will  take  tu 
thirds  of  the  stock.  Did  you  ever  hear  any  one  else  but 
your  folks,  ax  whether  a  dose  of  medicine  would  pay  when 
it  was  given  to  save  life  ?  If  that  everlastin  long  Erie  canal 
can  secure  to  New  York  the  supply  of  that  far  off  country, 
most  tother  side  of  creation,  surely  a  railroad  of  forty-five 
miles  can  give  you  the  trade  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  A  rail- 
road will  go  from  Halifax  to  Windsor  and  make  them  one 
town,  easier  to  send  goods  from  one  to  tother,  than  from 
Governor  Campbell's  House  to  Admiral  Cockburn's.  A 
bridge  makes  a  to"n,  a  river  makes  a  town,  a  canal  makes 
a  town,  but  a  railroad  is  bridge,  river,  thoroughfare,  canal, 
all  in  one  ;  what  a  whappin  large  place  that  would  make, 
would'nt  it?  It  would  be  the  dandy,  that's  a  feet.  No,  when 
you  go  back,  take  a  piece  of  chalk,  and  the  first  dark  night, 
write  on  every  door  in  Halifax,  in  large  letters — a  railroad 
— and  if  they  don't  know  the  meanin  of  it,^says  you  it's  a 
Yankee  word ;  if  you'll  go  to  Sam  Slick,  the  Clockmaker, 
the  chap  that  fixed  a  Yankee  handle  on  to  a  Halifax  blade, 
(and  I  made  him  a  scrape  of  my  leg,  as  much  as  to  say 
that's  you,)  every  man  that  buys  ^  Clock  shall  Kear  all 
bout  a^iZroarf.;;^;.^;  ■;  ]^,^,^^  ^.,: Y  \^;;;|^; 


t  tt 


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A: 


THE  GRAHAMITE  AND  THE  IRISH  PILOT. 


■  # ' 


I  THINK,  said  I,  this  is  a  happy  country,  Mr.  Slick 
The  people  are  fortunately  all  of  one  origin,  there  ire  n 
national  jealousies  to  divide,  and  no  very  violent  politics  to 
agitate  them.  They  appear  to  be  cheerful  and  contontcd, 
and  are  a  civil,  good-natured,  hospitable  race.  Considering 
the  unsettled  state  of  almost  every  part  of  the  world,  I  think 
I  would  as  soon  cast  my  lot  in  Neva  Scotia  as  in  any  part 
I  know  of. 

Its  a  clever  country,  you  may  depend,  said  he,  a  very 
clever  country  ;  full  of  mineral  wealth,  aboundin  in  superior 
water  privileges  and  noble  harbours,  a  large  part  of  it  prime 
land,  and  it  is  in  the  very  heart  of  the  fisheries.  But  the 
folks  put  me  in  mind  of  a  sect  in  our  country  they  call  the 
Grahamites — they  eat  no  meat  and  no  exciting  food,  and 
drink  nothin  stronger  than  water.  They  call  it  Philosophy 
(and  that  is  such  a  pretty  word  it  has  made  fools  of  more 
folks  than  them  afore  now ;)  but  I  call  it  tarnation  non-" 
sense.  I  once  travelled  all  through  the  State  of  Maine 
with  one  of  them  are  chaps.  He  w&s  as  thin  as  a  whippin 
post.  His  skin  looked  like  a  blown  bladder  arter  some  of 
the  air  had  leaked  out,  kinder  wrinkled  and  rumpled  like, 
and  his  eye  as  dim  as  a  lamp  that's  livin  on  a  short  allow- 
ance of  ile.  JBk-  put  me  in  mind  of  a  pair  of  kitchen  tongs, 
all  legs,  «haft,  and  head,  and  no  belly ;  a  real  gander  gutted 
lookin  critter,  as  holler  as  a  bamboo  walkin  cane,  and  twice 
as  y9^tt'-'  He  actilly  looked  as  if  he  had  been  picked  off  a 
rackW'sea,  and  dragged  through  a  gimlet  hole.  He  was 
a  lawy^«  Thinks  I,  the  Lord  a  massy  on  your  clients, 
you^ngry,  half-starved  lookin  critter,  you,  you'll  eat  'em 
op  alive  as  sure  as  the  Lord  made  Moses.  You  are  just  the 
hap  to  strain  at  a  gnat  and  swallow  a  camel,  tank,  shank^ 
and  flank,  all  at  a  gulp. 

Well,  when  we  came  to  an  inn,  and  a  beef-steak  was  sot 
afore  us  for  dinner,  he'd  say :  Oh,  that  is  too  good  for  me. 


■>■- 


. ,  K 


THE  OKAHAMITE,  ETC. 

it*s  too  exciting ;  all  fat  meat  is  diseased  meat- 


U 


sot 
me. 


-give  me 
some  bread  anu  cheese,     well,  id  say,  1  uoni  Know  what 
you  call  too  good,  but  it  tante  good  enough  for  me,  for  I 
call  it  as  tuf  as  lautihong,  and  that  will  bear  chawing  all 
day.     When  I  liquidate  for  my  dinner,  1  like  to  get  about 
the  best  that's  goin,  and  I  ant  a  bit  too  well  pleased  if 
don't.     Exciting  indeed ! !    thinks  I.     Lord,  I  should  lik 
to  see  you  excited,  if  it  was  only  for  the  fun  of  tlie  thing 
What  a  temptin  lookin  critter  you'd  be  among  the  galls 
wouldn't  you  1    Why,  you  look  like  a  subject  the  doctor 
boys  had  dropped  on  the  road  arter  they  had  dug  you  up, 
and  had  cut  stick  and  run  for  it. 

Well,  when  tea  came,  he  said  the  samd  thing,  it's  too 
exciting,  give  me  some  water,  do ;  that's  follerin  the  law 
of  natur.  Well,  says  I,  if  that's  the  case  you  ought  to  ea 
beef;  why,  says  he,  how  do  you  make  out  that  are  pro 
position  ?  Why,  says  I,  if  drinking  water,  instead  of  tea 
is  natur,  so  is  eatin  grass  according  to  natur  ;  now  all  flesh 
is  grass,  we  are  told,  so  you  had  better  eat  that  and  call 
it  vegetable ;  like  a  man  I  once  seed,  who  fasted  on  fish 
on  a  Friday,  and  when  he  had  done,  whipped  a  leg  o'  mut- 
ton into  the  oven  and  took  it  out  fish ;  says  he  it's  '  changed 
plaicCj^  that's  all,  and  '  plaice*  aint  a  bad  fish.  The  Catho- 
lics fast  enough,  gracious  knows,  but  then  they  fast  on  a 
great  rousin  big  salmon  at  two  dollars  and  forty  cents  a 
pound,  and  lots  of  old  Madeira  to  make  it  float  light  on  the 
stomach  ;  there  is  some  sense  in  mortifying  the  appetite 
arter  that  fashion,  but  plagy  little  in  your  way.  No,  says 
I,  friend,  you  may  talk  about  natur  as  you  please,  I've 
studied  natur  all  my  life,  and  I  vow  if  your  natur  could 
speak  out,  it  would  tell  you,  it  don't  over  half  like  to  be 
starved  arter  that  plan.  If  you  know'd  as  much  about  the 
marks  of  the  mouth  as  I  do,  you'd  know  that  you  have  car- 
nivorous as  well  as  graniverous  teeth,  and  that  natur  meant 
by  that,  you  should  eat  most  anything  that  are  door-keeper, 
your  nose,  would  give  a  ticket  to,  to  pass  into  your  mouth. 
Father  rode  a  race  at  New  York  course,  when  he  was  near 
hand  to  seventy,  and  that's  more  nor  you'll  do,  I  guess, 
and  he  eats  as  hearty  as  a  turkey  cock,  and  he  never  con- 
fined himself  to  water  neither,  when  he  could  get  any  thing 
convened  him  better.     Says  he,  Sam,  grandfather  Slick 


m 


09 


THB  CLOCKHAKER. 


Used  to  sny  there  was  an  old  proverb  in  York-hire,  '  a  full 
belly  makes  a  strong  back,'  and  1  guess  if  you  try  it,  natur 
will  tell  you  so  too.  If  ever  you  go  to  Connecticut,  jisl 
call  into  lather's,  and  he'll  give  you  a  real  right  down  ge- 
nuine New-England  breakfast,  and  if  that  don't  hapi)ify 
your  heart,  then  my  name's  not  Sam  Slick.  It  will  make 
you  feel  about  among  the  stiffest,  I  tell  you.  It  will  blow 
your  jacket  out  like  a  pig  at  sea.  You'll  have  to  shake  a 
reef  or  tv/o  out  of  your  waistbans  and  inake  good  stowai^e, 
I  guess,  to  carry  it  all  under  hatches.  There's  pothin  like 
a  good  pastur  to  cover  the  ribs,  and  make  the  hide  shine, 
depend  on't. 

Now  this  Province  is  like  that  are  Grahamite  lawyer's 
beef,  it's  too  good  for  the  folks  that's  in  it ;  they  either  don't 
avail  its  value  or  wont  use  it,  because  work  aint  arter  their 
*  law  of  natur.'  As  you  say,  they  are  quiet  enough 
(there's  worse  folks  than  the  blue-noses,  too,  if  you  come 
to  that,)  and  so  they  had  ought  to  be  quiet,  for  they  have 
nothin  to  fight  about.  As  for  politics,  they  have  nothin  to 
desarve  the  name ;  but  they  talk  about  it,  and  a  plaguy 
sight  of  nonsenpe  they  do  talk  too. 

Now  with  us  the  country  is  divided  into  two  parties,  of 
the  mammoth  breed,  the  ins  and  the  outs^  the  administra- 
tion and  the  opposition.  But  where's  the  administration 
here  l  Where's  the  War  Office,  the  Foreign  Office,  and 
the  Home  Office?  where's  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy? 
Where's  the  State  Bank  ?  ^'here's  the  Ambassadors  and 
Diplomatists  (them  are  the  boys  to  wind  off  a  snarl  of  rav- 
cllins  as  slick  as  if  it  were  on  a  reel)  and  where's  that  Ship 
of  State,  fitted  up  all  the  way  from  the  forecastle  clean 
up  to  the  starn  post,  chock  full  of  good  snug  berths,  hand- 
somely found  and  furnished,  tier  over  tier,  one  above  anoth- 
er, as  thick  as  it  can  hold  ?  That's  a  helm  worth  handlcn 
I  tell  you ;  I  don't  wonder  that  folks  mutiny  below,  and 
fight  on  the  decks  above  for  it — it  makes  a  plaguy  uproar 
.he  whole  time,  and  keeps  the  passengers  for  everlastingly 
m  a  state  of  alarm  for  fear  they'd  do  mischief  by  bustin 
the  byler,  a  runnin  aground,  or  gettin  foul  of  some  other 
craft. 

This  Province  is  better  as  it  is,  quieter  and  happier  far ; 
they  have  berths  enough  and  big  enough,  they  should  be 


THK   ORAHAMITC,    ETC. 


03 


careful  not  to  increase  'em ;  and  if  they  were  to  do  it  over 
ngin,  perhaps  they'd  be  as  well  with  fewer.  They  ha\e 
two  parties  here,  the  Tory  party  and  the  Opposition  party, 
and  both  on  'em  run  to  extremes.  Them  radicals,  says 
one,  are  for  levellin  all  down  to  their  own  level,  tho'  not 
a  peg  lower ;  that's  their  gage,  jist  down  to  their  own 
notch  and  no  further ;  and  they'd  agitate  the  whole  coun- 
try to  obtain  that  object,  for  if  a  man  can't  grow  to  be  as 
tall  as  his  neighbour,  if  he  cuts  a  few  inches  off  him  why 
then  they  are  both  of  one  heighth.  They  are  a  most 
dangerous,  disaffected  people — they  are  eternally  appealin 
to  the  worst  passions  of  the  mob.  Well,  says  tother,  theift 
aristocrats,  they'll  ruinate  the  country,  they  spend  the  whole 
revenu  on  themselves.  What  with  Bankers,  Councillors, 
Judges,  Bishops,  and  Public  Officers,  and  a  whole  tribe  of 
Lawyers,  as  hungry  as  hawks,  and  jist  about  as  mnrciful, 
the  country  is  devoured,  as  if  there  was  a  flock  of  locusts 
a  fcedin  on  it.  There's  nothin  lefl  for  roads  and  bridges. 
When  a  chap  sets  out  to  canvass,  he's  got  to  antagonise 
one  side  or  tother.  If  he  hangs  on  to  the  powers  that  be, 
then  he's  a  Council-man,  he's  for  votin  large  salaries,  for 
doin  as  the  great  people  at  Halifax  tell  him.  He  is  afooh 
If  he  is  on  tother  side,  a  railin  at  Banks,  Judges,  Lawyers, 
and  such  cattle,  and  baulin  for  what  he  knows  he  can't  get, 
then  he  is  a  rogue.  So  that,  if  you  were  to  listen  to  the 
weak  and  noisy  critters  on  both  sides,  you'd  believe  the 
House  of  Assembly  was  one-half  rogues  and  tother  half 
fools.  All  this  arises  from  ignorance.  J)f  they  knew  more 
of  each  other  ^  I  guess  they*d  lay  aside  one-half  their  fears 
and  all  their  abuse.  The  upper  classes  dent  know  one-half 
the  virtue  thafs  in  the  middlin  and  lower  i^laasesy  and  they 
don't  know  one-half  the  integrity  and  good  feelin  that's  in 
the  othersy  and  both  are  fooled  and  gulled  by  their  own 
noisy  and  designin  champions.  Take  any  two  men  tha 
are  by  the  ears,  they  opinionate  all  they  hear  of  each  other 
impute  all  sorts  of  onworthy  motives,  and  misconstrue 
every  act ;  let  them  see  more  of  each  other,  and  they'll 
find  out  to  their  surprise,  that  they  have  not  only  been 
lookin  through  a  magnifying  glass  that  warnt  very  true, 
but  a  coloured  one  also,  that  changed  the  complexion,  and 
distorted  the  features,  and  each  one  will  think  tother  a  very 


■*3 


'**■;■ 

%  4 


04 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


1* 


"*,  < 

■     Ir 

'if 


good  kind  of  chap,  and  like  as  not  a  plaguy  plcai>ant  one 

too.  J*  ►  .     T-t1. ?%.'-.',     ..)JP»!^> 

If  I  was  axed  which  side  was  farthest  from  the  mark  in 
this  Province,  I  vow  I  should  Ik)  puzzled  to  say.  A»  \ 
don't  belong  to  the  country,  and  don't  care  a  snap  of  my  v 
finger  for  either  of  'em,  1  suppose  I  can  judge  better  than 
any  mai  in  it,  but  I  snore  1  don't  think  there's  much  dif- 
ference. The  popular  side  (I  wont  say  patriotic,  for  we 
fmd  in  our  steam-boats  a  man  who  has  a  plaguy  sight  of 
proj)erty  in  his  portmunter  is  quite  as  anxious  for  its  safety 
as  him  that's  only  one  pair  of  yarn  stockings  and  a  clean 
shirt,  is  for  hisn)  the  popular  side  are  not  so  well  informed 
as  tother,  and  they  have  the  misfortin  of  havin  their  pas- 
sions addressed  more  than  their  reason,  therefore  they  are 
often  out  of  the  way,  or  rather  led  out  of  it,  and  put  astray 
by  bad  guides ;  well,  tother  side  have  the  prejudices  of 
birth  and  education  to  dim  their  vision,  and  are  alarmed  to 
undertake  a  thing,  from  the  dread  of  ambush,  or  open  foes, 
that  their  guides  are  eternally  descrying  in  the  mist — and 
beside  power  has  a  nateral  tendency  to  corpulency.  As 
for  them  guides,  I'd  make  short  work  of  'cm  if  it  was  me. 

In  the  last  war  with  Britain,  the  Constitution  frigate  was 
close  in  once  on  the  shores  of  Ireland,  a  lookin  arter  some 
marchant  ships,  and  she  took  on  board  a  pilot ;  well,  he 
was  a  deep,  sly,  twistical  lookin  chap,  as  you  cen  amost 
ever  seed.  lie  had  a  sort  of  dark  down  look  about  him, 
and  a  leer  out  of  the  corner  of  one  eye,  like  a  horse  that's 
goin  to  kick.  The  captain  guessed  he  read  in  his  face, 
*  well  now,  if  I  was  to  run  this  here  Yankee  right  slap  on 
a  rock  and  bilge  her,  the  King  would  make  a  man  of  mo 
for  ever.'  So  says  he  to  the  first  leflcnant'^  reeve  a  ro|>e 
thro'  that  are  block  at  the  tip  eend  of  the  fore  yard,  and 
clap  a  runnin  nuse  in  it.  The  leftenant  did  it  as  quick  us 
wink,  and  came  back,  and  says  he,  I  guess  it's  done.  Now, 
says  the  Captain,  look  here,  pilot,  liere's  a  ro]ie  you  han't 
seed  yet ;  I'll  jist  explain  the  use  of  it  to  you  in  case  you 
want  the  loan  of  ir.  If  this  here  frigate,  manned  with  our 
free  and  enlighted  citizens,  gets  aground,  I'll  give  you  a 
ride  on  the  slack  of  that  are  rope,  right  up  to  that  yard  by 
the  neck,  by  Gum.  Well,  it  rub'd  all  the  writin  out  of  his 
(ace,  as  quick  as  spittin  on  a  slate  takes  a  sunf>  (xit,  yoti 


TJIB  GRAIIAMITIf  BTO. 


96 


mo. 


us 

iOW, 

lyoii 

lour 

^u  a 

by 

his 


may  depend.  Now,  thoy  should  rig  up  a  crane  over  the 
Htreet  door  of  the  State  House  at  Haliiax.  and  when  ony 
ol*  the  pilots  at  '>ither  eond  of  the  buildin,  run  *cm  on  thio 
breakers  on  purpose,  string  'em  up  like  an  onsnfe  dog.  A 
8ign  of  that  are  kind,  with  '  a  house  of  public  entertain 
ment,'  painted  under  it,  would  do  the  business  in  less  than 
no  time.  If  it  would'nt  keep  the  hawks  out  of  the  poultry 
yard,  it's  a  pity — it  would  scare  them  out  of  a  year's 
growth,  thtjt's  a  fact — if  thoy  used  it  once,  I  guess  they 
wouldn't  have  occasion  for  it  agin  in  a  hurry — it  would  be 
like  the  Aloe  tree,  and  that  bears  fruit  only  once  in  a  hun- 
dred years. 

If  you  want  to  know  how  to  act  any  time,  squire,  never 
go  to  books,  leave  them  to  galls  and  school  boys ;  but  go 
right  off  and  cypher  it  out  of  natur,  that's  a  sure  guide,  it 
will  never  deceive  you,  you  may  depend.     For  instance, 

*  whai'a  that  to  me,'  is  a  phrase  so  common  that  it  shows 
it's  a  natural  one,  when  people  have  no  particular  interest 
in  a  thing.  Well,  when  a  feller  gets  so  warm  on  either 
side  as  never  to  use  that  phrase  at  all,  watch  him,  that's  all ! 
keep  your  eye  on  him,  or  he'll  walk  right  into  you  afore 
you  know  where  you  be.     If  a  man  runs  to  'ne  and  says, 

♦  your  fence  is  down,'  thank  you,  says  I,  that's  kind — if  he 
comes  agin  and  says,  *  I  guess  some  stray  cattle  have  broke 
into  your  short  sarce  garden,'  I  thank  him  again ;  says  I, 
come  now,  this  is  neighbourly ;  but  when  he  keeps  etar- 
nally  tellin  me  this  thing  of  one  sarvant,  and  that  thing  of 
another  sarvant,  hints  that  my  friend  a'nt  true,  that  my 
neighbours  are  inclined  to  take  advantage  of  me,  and  that 
suspicious  folks  are  seen  about  my  place,  I  say  to  myself, 
what  on  airth  makes  this  critter  take  such  a  wonderful 
interest  in  my  a^airs  ?  I  don't  like  to  hear  such  tales — 
he's  arler  something  as  sure  as  the  world,  if  he  warnt  he'd 
say,  *  whafs  that  to  wic'  I  never  believe  much  w  hat  I 
hear  said  by  a  man's  violent  friend^  or  violent  enemy,  I 
want  to  hear  what  a  disinterested  man  has  to  say — now.,  as 
a  disinterested  man,  I  say  if  the  members  of  the  Hovse 
of  Assembly,  instead  of  raisin  up  ghosts  and  hobgoblins 
to  frighten  folks  with,  and  to  show  what  sicordsmen  they 
be,  a  cuttin  and  a  thrustin  at  phantoms  that  only  exist  in 
their  own  brains,  would  turn  to,  heart  and  hand,  and  de 


06 


'    THE  OLOCKMAKBIU 


vtlope  the  reaourcfs  of  tkU  Jlne  country^  facilitate  the 
mean*  of  trawtport — promote  its  internal  improvemerUy  and 
enoourage  its  foreign  trade,  they  would  make  it  the  richest 
and  greatest,  us  it  now  is  one  of  the  happier,  sections  of 
all  America-  -I  hope  I  may  be  skinned  if  they  vDouldnH"^, 
they  would ^  Iswan. 


'.'  •  /  1)1. 


i  <1 


I.     I,.'*       'S' 


.         \  CHAPTER  XIX. 

. ,  /  ■  ■    ■ 

TIIE  CLOCKMAKEK  QUILTS  A  BLUE-NOSE.  " 

The  descendants  of  Eve  have  profited  little  by  her 
example.  The  curiosity  of  the  fair  sex  is  still  insatiable, 
and,  as  it  is  often  ill  directed,  it  frequently  terminates  in 
error.  In  the  country  this  feminine  propensity  is  trouble- 
some to  a  traveller,  and  ho  who  would  avoid  importunities, 
would  do  well  to  announce  at  once,  on  his  arrival  at  a 
Cumberland  Inh,  his  name  and  his  business,  the  place  of 
his  abode,  and  the  length  of  his  visit. 

Our  beautiful  hostess,  Mrs.  Pugwash,  as  she  took  her 
seat  at  the  breakfast  table  this  morning,  exhibited  the 
example  that  suggested  these  reflections.  She  was  struck 
with  horror  at  our  conversation,  the  latter  part  only  of 
which  she  heard,  and  of  course  misapplied  and  misunder- 
stood. 

She  was  run  down  by  the  President,  said  I,  and  has  been 
laid  up  for  some  time.  Gulard's  people  have  stripped  her, 
in  consequence  of  her  making  water  so  fast.  Stripped 
whom  ?  said  Mrs.  Pugwash,  as  she  suddenly  dropped  the 
teapot  from  her  hand  ;  stripped  whom, — for  heaven's  sake 
tell  me  who  it  is  ?  The  Lady  Ogle,  said  I.  Lady  Ogle, 
said  she,  how  horrid  !  Two  of  her  ribs  were  so  broken  as 
10  require  to  be  replaced  with  new  ones.  Two  new  ribs, 
said  she,  well  I  never  heerd  the  beat  of  that  in  all  my  born 
days ;  poor  critter,  how  she  must  have  suffered.  On 
examining  her  below  the  waist  they  found — Examining  her 
still  lower,  said  she  (all  the  pride  of  her  sex  revolting  at 
the  idea  of  such  an  indecent  exhibition,)  you  dont  pretend 


.fci«i^.-*iitf*fifc-^^^-^^''' 


been 

her, 

•ped 

the 

sake 

ribs, 

Iborn 

On 

her 

igat 

btend 


to  say  they  stripped  her  below  the  waist ;  what  did  the 
Admiral  say  1  Did  he  stand  by  and  see  her  handled  in  that 
wuy  7    The  Admiral,  madum,  said  I,  did  not  trouble  his 
head  about  it.     They  found  her  extremely  uiuiound  there, 
and  much  worm  eaten.     Worm  eaten,  she  coiitinutHl,  liow 
awful !  it  must  have  been  them  nasty  jiggers,  that  got  in 
there ;  they  tell  me  they  are  dreadful  thick  in  the  West 
Indies ;  Joe  Crow  had  them  in  his  feet,  and  lost  two  of  his 
toes.     Worm  eaten,  dear,  dear !  I  but  still  thut  aint  so  bad 
as  having  them  great  he  ibllows  strip  one.     I  promise  you 
if  them  (jrularda  had  undertaken  to  strip  me,  Vd  taught  them 
different  guess  manners ;  I'd  died  first  before  IM  submitted 
to  it.     I  always  liecrd  tell  the  English  quality  Ladies  were 
awful  bold,  but  I  never  lieerd  t^e  like  o'that.  ,t>.  •,  tw  ytf  "^tn 
What  on  airth  are  you  drivin  at?  said  Mr.  Slic|i;r^ 
never  seed  you  so  much  out  in  your  latitude  afore,  marm,  I 
vow.     We  were  talkin  of  repairm  a  vessel,  not  strippin  a 
woman :    what   under  the  sun  could   have  put  ^hat  are 
crocket  into  your  head  1  ^he  looked  mortified  and  numbled 
at  the  result  of  her  own  absurd  curiosity,  and  soon  quitted 
the  room.     I  thought  I  should  have  snorted  right  out  two 
or  three  times,  said  the  Ciockmaker ;  I  bad  to  pucker  up 
my  mouth  like  the  upper  cend  of  a  silk  puss,  to  keep  from 
yawhawin  in  her  face,  to  hear  the  critter  let  her  clapper 
run  that  fashion.     She  is  not  the  fittfi  hand  that  has  caught 
a  lobster,  by  puttin  in  her  oar  afore  her  turn,  I  guess. 
SheMl  mind  her  stops  next  ^itch,  l  rfckoa.    Thi9  was  our 
last  breakfast  at  Amherst.  ,/   ,,  ^   '  /  ^r;  */>  in  ♦*]^j4 

An  early  frost  that  smQte  the  potatoe  fields,  and  chclnged 
the  beautiful  green  colour  of  the  Indian  corn  into  shades  of 
light  yellow  and  dark  brown,  reminded  me  of  the  presence 
of  autumn— of  the  season  of  short  days  and  bad  roads.  I 
determined  to  proceed  at  once  to  Parrsboro,  and  thence  by 
the  Windsor  and  Kentville  route  to  Annapolis,  Yarmouth, 
and  Shelburne,  and  to  return  by  the  shore  road,  through 
Liverpool  and  Lunenburg  to  Halifax.  I  therefore  took  leave 
(though  not  without  much  reluctance)  of  the  Ciockmaker, 
whose  intention  had  been  to  go  to  Fort  Lawrence.  Well, 
said  he,  I  vow  I  am  sorry  to  part  company  along  with  you ; 
a  considerable  long  journey  like  ourn,  is  like  sitting  up  late 
with  the  gall?}  a  body  kn9wi9  Us  getting  on  pretty  w«^i 


'Ufsfj.'' 


^.•■.-ia,  :rr..>  ■'^^:,iji 


^•'. 


»^^^' 


■.jiS!" 


\ 


%^ 


08 


THB   CLOOKMAXER. 


•'•sj'; 

i' 

•a 


toward  morniB,  and  yet  feels  loth  to  go  to  bed,  for  its  jnst 
the  time  folks  grow  sociable. 

I  got  a  scheme  in  my  head,  said  he,  that  I  think  will 
answer  both  on  us  ;  I  got  debts  due  to  me  in  nil  them  are 
places  for  Clocks  sold  by  the  concern ;  now  suppose  you 
leave  your  horse  on  these  marshes  this  fall,  he^Il  get  as  fat 
as  a  fool,  he  wont  be  able  to  see  out  of  his  eyes  in  a  month, 
and  ril  put  *  Old  Clay^^  (I  call  him  Clay  arter  our  senator 
who  is  a  prime  bit  of  stuff)  into  a  Yankee  waggon  I  have 
here,  and  drive  you  all  round  the  coast. 

This  was  too  good  an  ofler  to  be  declined.  A  run  at 
grass  for  my  horse,  an  easy  and  comfortable  waggon,  and 
a  guide  so  original  and  amusing  as  Mr.  Slick,  were  either 
of  them  enough  to  induce  my  acquiescence. 

As  soon  as  we  had  taken  our  seats  in  the  waggon,  he 
observed.  We  shall  progress  real  handsum  now ;  that  are 
horse  goes  etarnal  fast,  he  near  about  set  my  axle  on  fire 
twice.  He's  a  spanker,  you  may  depend.  I  had  him  when 
he  was  a  two-year  old,  all  legs  and  tail,  like  a  devil's  darnin 
needle,  and  had  him  broke  on  purpose  by  father's  old 
nigger,  January*  Snow.  He  knows  English  real  well,  and 
can  do  near  about  any  thing  but  speak  it.  He  helped  me 
once  to  ginn  a  blue-nose  a  proper  handsum  quiltin.  He 
must  have  stood  a  poor  chance  indeed,  said  I,  a  horse 
kickin,  and  a  man  strikin  him  at  the  same  time.  Oh !  not 
arter  that  pattern  at  all,  said  he ;  Lord,  if  Old  Clay  had 
kicked  him,  he'd  a  smashed  him  like  that  are  saucer  you 
broke  at  Pugnose's  inn,  into  ten  hundred  thousand  million 
flinders.  Oh !  no,  if  I  didn't  fix  his  flint  for  him  in  fail 
play  it's  a  pity.  I'll  tell  jcuxi  how  it  was.  I  was  up  to 
Truro,  at  Ezra  Whitter's  Inn.  There  was  an  arbitration 
there  atween  Deacon  Text  and  Deacon  Faithful.  "Well, 
the.'e  was  a  nation  sight  of  folks  there,  for  they  said  it  was 
a  bit3r  bit,  and  they  came  to  witness  the  sport,  and  to  see 
whicti  cntter  would  get  the  ear  mark. 

Well,  I'd  been  doin  a  little  business  there  among  the  folks 
and  had  jist  sot  off  for  the  river,  mounted  on  Old  Clay, 
arter  takin  a  glass  of  Ezra's  most  particular  handsum  Ja- 
maiky,  and  was  trottin  off  pretty  slick,  when  who  should 
I  run  agin  but  Tim  Bradley.  He  is  a  dreadful  u^ly,  cross- 
grained  critter,  as  you  een  amost  ever  seed,  when  he  is 


y^i 


•*:<'- 


.^"' 


he 


'lay. 

Ja< 

^ould 

POSS- 

(le  is 


THB   CLOCKMAKER,   ETC. 


99 


about  half-shaved.  Well,  I  stopped  short,  and  says  I,  Mr. 
Bradley,  I  hope  you  beaat  hurt ;  Pm  proper  sorry  I  run 
agin  you,  you  can't  feel  uglier  than  I  do  about  it,  I  do  assure 
you.  He  called  me  a  Yankee  pedlar,  a  cheatin  vagabond, 
A  wooden  nutmeg,  and  threw  a  good  deal  of  assorted  hard- 
ware of  that  kind  at  me ;  and  the  crowd  of  folks  cried  out, 
Down  with  the  Yankee,  let  him  have  it,  Tim,  teach  him 
better  manners ;  and  they  carried  on  pretty  high,  I  tell  you, 
Well,  I  got  my  dander  up  too,  I  felt  all  up  on  eend  like; 
and,  thinks  I  to  myself,  my  lad,  if  I  get  a  clever  chance, 
V\\  give  you  such  a  quiltin  as  you  never  had  since  you 
were  raised  from  a  seedlin,  I  vow.  So,  says  I,  Mr.  Brad- 
ley, I  guess  you  had  better  let  me  be ;  you  know  I  can't 
fight  no  more  than  a  cow — I  never  was  brought  up  to 
wranglin,  and  I  don't  like  it.  Haul  off  the  cowardly  rascal, 
they  all  bawled  out,  haul  him  off,  and  lay  it  into  him.  So 
he  lays  right  hold  of  me  by  the  collar,  and  gives  me  a  pull, 
and  I  lets  on  as  if  VI  lost  my  balance  and  fails  right  down. 
Then  I  jumps  up  oi«  eend,  and  says  I  *  go  ahead.  Clay,* 
and  the  old  horse  he  sets  off  ahead,  so  I  knew  I  had  him 
when  I  wanted  him.  Then  says  I,  I  h<^  you  are  satisfied 
now,  Mr.  Bradley,  with  that  are  ungenteel  fall  you  ginn  me. 
Well,  he  makes  a  blow  at  me,  and  I  dodged  it :  now  says 
I,  you'll  be  sorry  for  this,  I  tell  you ;  I  wont  be  treated  this 
way  for  nothin,  I'll  go  right  off  and  swear  my  life  agiu  you., 
Tm  most  afeard  you'll  murder  me.  Well,  he  strikes  at  me 
agin,  (thinkin  he  had  a  genuine  soil  horn  to  deal  with,)  and 
hits  me  in  the  shoulder.  Now,  says  I,  I  wont  stand  here  to 
be  lathered  like  a  dog  all  day  long  this  fashion,  it  tante 
pretty  at  all,  I  guess  I'll  give  you  a  cliase  for  it.  Off  1  sets 
arter  my  horse  like  mad,  and  he  arter  me  (I  did  that  to  get 
clear  of  the  crowd,  so  that  I  might  have  fair  play  at  him.) 
Well,  I  soon  found  I  had  the  heels  of  him,  and  could  play 
him  as  I  liked.  Then  I  slackened  up  a  little,  and  when  he 
came  close  up  to  me,  so  as  nearly  to  lay  his  hand  upon  me, 
I  squatted  right  whap  down,  all  short,  and  he  pitched  over 
me  near  about  a  rod  or  so,  I  guess,  on  his  head,  and  plow- 
ed up  the  ground  with  his  nose,  the  matter  of  a  foot  oi  two. 
[f  he  didn't  polish  up  the  coulter,  and  both  mould  boards 
of  his  face,  it's  a  pity.     Now,  says  I,  you  had  better  lay 


«'here  you  be  and  let  me  go,  for  I  am  proper  tired ;  I  bio 


ijT'^\^'a^it%.-e:..- . 


:.vvj- 


100 


THE  clookmakbr; 


like  a  horse  that's  got  the  heaves ;  and  ])Gsicles,  says  I,  T 
guess  you  had  better  wash  your  face,  for  I  am  most  a 
fi'ared  you  hurt  yourself.  That  ryled  him  properly;  I 
meant  that  it  should  ;  so  he  ups  and  at  me  awful  spiteful,  like 
a  bull ;  then  I  let's  him  have  it,  right,  Icfl,  right,  jist  throe 
corkers,  beginning  with  the  right  hand,  ahiftin  to  the  left, 
and  then  with  the  right  hand  agin.  This  way  I  did  it,  said 
the  Clockmakcr,  (and  he  showed  me  the  manner  in  which  it 
was  done) ;  its  a  beautiful  way  of  hitting,  and  always  does 
the  business — a  blow  for  each  eye,  and  one  for  the  mouth. 
It  sounds  like  ten  pounds  ten  on  a  blacksmith's  anv*! ;  I 
bunged  up  both  eyes  for  him,  and  put  in  the  dead  lights  in 
two  tu's,  and  drew  three  of  his  teeth,  quicker  a  plaguy 
sight  than  the  Truro  doctor  could,  to  save  his  soul  alive. 
Now,  says  1,  my  friend,  when  you  recover  your  eye-sight, 
I  guess  you'll  see  your  mistake — I  warnt  born  in  the  woods 
to  be  scared  by  an  owl.  The  next  time  you  feel  in  a  most 
particular  elegant  good  humour,  come  to  me,  and  I'll  play 
you  the  second  part  of  that  identical  same  tune,  that  s  a 
Ihct. 

With  that  I  Whistled  for  Old  Clay,  and  back  he  comes, 
and  I  mounted  and  off,  jist  as  the  crowd  camie  up.  The 
folks  looked  staggeredi  and  wondered  a  little  craiti  how 
it  was  done  so  cleverly  in  short  metre.  If  I  cud'nt  quilt 
him  in  no  time,  you  may  depend ;  I  went  right  slap  into 
him,  like  a  flash  of  lightning  into  a  gooseberry  bush.  He 
found  his  suit  ready  made  and  fitted  afore  he  thought  he 
was  half  measured.  Thinks  I,  friend  Bradley,  I  hope 
you  know  yourself  now,  for  I  vow  no  livin  soul  would  j 
you  swallowed  your  soup  without  singin  out  scaldins, 
and  you're  near  about  a  pint  and  a  half  nearer  crying  than 
larfin. 

Yes,  as  I  was  sayin,  this  *  Old  Clay'  is  a  real  knowin 
one,  he's  as  spry  as  a  colt  yet,  clear  grit,  ginger  to  the 
back  bone ;  I  can't  help  a  thinkin  sometimes  the  breed 
must  have  come  from  old  Kentuck,  half  horse  half  alliga- 
tor, with  a  cross  of  the  airthquake. 

I  hope  I  may  be  tee-totally  ruinated,  if  I'd  take  eight 
hundred  dollars  for  him.  Go  ahead,  you  old  clinker  built 
villain,  said  he,  and  show  the  gentleman  how  wonderful 
Imndsum  you  can  travel.     Give  him  the  real  Connecticut 


8ISTBR  8ALL*S  COURTSHIP. 


101 


play 


omcs, 

The 

how 

quilt 

into 

He 

t  he 

hope 

uld; 

dins, 

than 

)win 
the 
Ireed 
liga- 

light 
)uilt 
Irful 
kut 


Suick  step.  That's  it — that's  the  way  to  carry  the  Presi- 
ent'H  message  to  Congress,  from  Washington  to  New 
YovH  \  no  time — th:it'8  the  go  to  carry  a  gall  from  Bos< 
ton  U.  iihode  Island,  and  trice  her  up  to  a  Justice  to  be 
married,  afore  her  father's  out  of  bed  of  a  summer's 
mornin.  Aint  he  a  beauty?  a  real  dolll  none  of  youx 
Cumberland  critters,  that  the  more  you  quilt  them,  the 
more  they  wont  go ;  but  a  proper  one,  that  will  go  free 
gratis  for  nothtn,  all  out  of  his  own  head  voluntcrri//j^ 
Yes,  a  horse  like  *01d  Clay,'  is  worth  the  whole  seed, 
breed,  and  generation  of  them  Amherst  beasts  put  together. 
He's  a  horse  every  inch  of  him,  stock,  lock,  and  barrel,  is 
Old  Clay, 


'•V 


CHAPTER  XX. 


X-  . 


SISTER  SALL'S  COURTSHIP. 


i'.'U- 


There  goes  one  of  them  are  everlBjstin  rottin  poles  in 
(hat  bridge;  they  are  no  better  than  a  trap  for  a  crit- 
ter's leg,  said  the  Clockmaker.  They  remmd  me  of  a 
trap  Jim  Munroe  put  his  foot  in  one  night,  that  near 
about  made  one  leg  half  a  yard  longer  than  tother.  I 
believe  I  told  you  of  him,  what  a  desperate  idle  feller  he 
was — he  came  from  Onion  County  in  Connecticut.  Well, 
he  was  courtin  Sister  Sail — she  was  a  real  handsum  look« 
ing  gall ;  you  scarce  ever  seed  a  more  out  and  out  com- 
plete  critter  than  she  was->*a  fine  figur  head,  and  a  beauti- 
ful model  of  a  crafl  as  any  in  the  state,  a  real  clipper, 
and  as  full  of  fun  and  frolic  as  a  kitten.  Well,  he  fairly 
turned  Sail's  iiead ;  the  more  we  wanted  her  to  give  him 
up,  the  more  she  would'nt,  and  we  got  plaguy  oncasy 
about  it,  for  his  character  was  none  of  the  best.  He  was 
a  universal  favourite  with  the  galls,  and  tho'  he  did'nt  be- 
have very  pretty  neither,  forgetting  to  marry  where  he 
promised,  and  where  he  had'nt  ought  to  have  forgot,  too , 
yet  so  it  was,  he  had  such  an  uncommon  winnin  way  with 
0* 


'Hi; 


I'X 


103 


THB  OLOCKMARKR.      ^ 


hiiin,  he  could  talk  them  over  in  no  time — Sail  was  fairiy 
bewitched. 

At  last,  father  said  to  him  one  evening  when  he  came 
a  courtin,  Jim,  says  he,  you'll  never  come  to  no  good,  if 
you  act  like  old  Scratch  as  you  do ;  you  aint  fit  to  come 
into  no  decent  man's  house,  at  all,  and  your  absence  would 
be  ten  times  more  agreeable  than  your  company,  I  tell 
you.  I  won't  consent  to  Sail's  goin  to  them  are  huskin 
parties  and  quiltin  frolics  along  with  you  no  more,  on  no 
account,  for  you   know   how   Polly  Brown  and  Nancy 

White  .     Now  don't,  says  he,  now  don't.  Uncle 

Sam;  say  no  more  about  that;   if  you  know'd  all  you 
would'nt  say  it  was  my  fault ;  and  besides,  I  have  turned 
right  about,  I  am  on  tother  tack  now,  and  the  long  leg, 
too ;  I  am  as  steady  as  a  pump  bolt,  now.     I  intend  to 
settle  myself  and  take  a  farm.     Yes,  yes,  and  you  could 
stock  it,  too,  by  all  accounts,  pretty  well,  unless  you  are 
much  misreported,  says  father,  but  it  won't  do.     I  knew 
your  father,  he  was  our  sargeant,  a  proper  clever  and 
brave  man  he  was,  too ;  he  was  one  of  the  heroes  of  our 
glorious  revolution.     I  had  a  great  respect  for  him,  and  I 
am  sorry,  for  his  sake,  you  will  act  as  you  do ;  but  I  tel) 
you  once  for  all,  you  must  give  up  all  thoughts  of  Sail, 
now  and  for  everlastin.     When  Sail  heerd  this,  she  began 
to  nit  away  like  mad  in  a  desperate  hurry — she  looked 
foolish  enough,  that's  a  fact.     First  she  tried  to  bite  in 
her  breath,  and  look  as  if  there  was  nothin  particular  in 
the  wind,  then  she  blushed  all   over  like  scarlet  fe\erf 
but  she  recovered  that  pretty  soon,  and  then  her  colour 
went  and  came,  and  came  and  went,  till  at  last  she  grew 
as  white  as  chalk,  and  down  she  fell  slap  off  her  seat  on 
the  floor,  in  a  faiutin  fit.     I  see,  says  father,  I  see  it  now, 
you  etarnal  villain,  and  he  made  a  pull  at  the  old  fashioned 
sword,  that  always  hung  over  the  fire  place,  (we  used  to 
call  it  old  Bunker,  for  his  stories  always  begun,  *  when  I 
was  at  Bunker's  hill,')  and  drawing  it  out  he  made  a  clip  at 
him  as  wicked  as  if  he  was  stabbing  a  rat  with  a  hay  fork ; 
but  Jim,  he  outs  of  the  door  like  a  shot,  and  draws  it  too 
arter  him,  and  father  sends  old  Bunker  right  through  the 
panel.     I'll  chop  you  up  as  fine  as  mince  meat,  you  vil- 
lain, said  he,  if  ever  I  catch  you  inside  my  door  agia 


SISTlHi  SAU/B  OOUATSHIP. 


lod 


jrew 
it  on 


mind  what  I  tell  you,  *  you'll  noing  for  it  yet,*  Well, 
he  made  himself  considerable  scarce  arter  that,  he  never 
dot  foot  inside  the  door  a^in,  and  I  thought  he  had  ginn 
up  all  hopes  of  Sail,  and  she  of  him ;  when  one  night,  a 
most  particular  uncommon  dark  night,  as  I  was  a  comin 
homo  from  neighbour  Dearborne's,  I  heerd  some  one  a 
talkin  under  SalPs  window.  Well,  I  stops  and  listens, 
and  who  should  be  near  the  ash  saplin  but  Jim  Munroe, 
a  tryin  to  persuade  Sail  to  run  off  with  him  to  Rliode 
Island  to  be  married.  It  was  all  settled,  he  should  come 
with  a  horse  and  shay  to  the  gate,  and  then  help  her  out 
of  the  window,  jist  at  nine  o'clock,  about  the  time  she 
commonly  went  to  bed.  Then  he  axes  her  to  reach  down 
her  hand  for  him  to  kiss,  (for  he  was  proper  clever  at 
soil  sawder)  and  she  stretches  it  down  and  he  kisses  it ;  and 
says  he,  I  believe  I  must  haVe  the  whole  of  you  out  arter 
all,  and  gives  her  a  jirk  that  kinder  startled  her ;  it  came 
so  sudden  like  it  made  her  scream ;  so  off  he  sot  hot  foot, 
and  over  the  gate  in  no  tiiTie. 

Well,  I  cyphered  over  this  all  night,  a  calculatin  how  I 
should  reciprocate  that  trick  with  him,  and  at  last  I  hit  on 
a  scheme.  I  recollected  father's  words  at  partin,  *  mind 
what  I  tell  yoUf  you'll  swing  for  it  yet  /'  and  thinks  I, 
friend  Jim,  I'll  make  that  prophecy  come  true,  yet,  I  guess. 
So  the  next  night,  ji^t  at  dark,  I  gives  January  Snow,  the 
old  nigger,  a  nidge  with  my  elbow,  and  as  soon  as  he  looks 
up,  I  winks  and  walks  out  and  he  arter  me — says  I,  Janua- 
ry, can  you  keep  yoor  tongue  within  your  teeth,  you  old 
nigger,  you  ?  Why  massa,  why  you  ax  that  are  question  ? 
my  Gor  Ormity,  you  tink  old  Snow  he  don't  know  that  are 
yet ;  my  tongue  he  got  plenty  room  now,  debil  a  tooth  left, 
he  can  stretch  out  ever  so  far ;  like  a  little  leg  in  a  big  bed, 
he  lay  quiet  enough,  massa,  neber  fear.  Well,  then,  says 
I,  bend  down  that  are  ash  saplin  softly,  you  old  Snowball, 
and  make  no  noise.  The  saplin  was  no  sooner  bent  than 
secured  to  the  ground  by  a  notched  peg  and  a  noose,  and  a 
slip  knot  was  suspended  from  the  tree,  jist  over  the  track 
that  led  from  the  pathway  to  the  house.     Why  my  Gor, 

massa,  that's  a .     Hold  your  mug,  you  old  nigger, 

says  I,  or  I'll  send  your  tongue  a  sarchin  arter  your  teeth  ; 
keep  quiet,  and  follow  me  in  presently. 


-!»>■" 


iv 


H. 


104 


^n^y^c  ^'Vf'rm^itf 


/fX^THE  CLOCKMAKBIU      t 


Well,  jist  as  it  struck  nine  oVIock,  says  I,  Sally,  hold 
this  here  hank  of  twine  for  a  minute,  till  I  wind  a  trifle  on 
it  off;  that's  a  dear  critter.  She  sot  down  her  candle,  and 
I  put  the  twine  on  her  hands,  and  then  I  begins  to  wind  and 
wind  away  ever  so  slow,  and  drops  the  ball  every  now  and 
then,  so  as  to  keep  her  down  stairs.  Sam,  says  she,  I  do 
believe  you  won't  wind  that  are  twine  off  all  night,  do  give 
it  to  January,  I  won't  stay  no  longer,  I'm  een  a  most  dead 
asleep.  The  old  feller's  arm  is  so  plaguy  onsteady,  says  I, 
it  won't  do ;  but  hark,  what's  that,  I'm  sure  I  heerd  some* 
thing  in  the  ash  saplin,  didn't  you,  Sail  ?  I  heerd  the  geese 
there,  that's  all,  says  she,  they  always  come  under  the  win* 
dows  at  night ;  but  she  looked  scared  enough,  and  says  she, 
I  vow  I'm  tired  a  holdin  out  of  my  arms  this  way,  and  I 
won't  do  it  no  longer ;  and  down  she  throw'd  the  hank  on 
the  floor.  Well,  says  I,  stop*  one  minute,  dear,  till  I  send 
old  January  out  to  see  if  any  body  is  there ;  perhaps  some 
o'  neighbour  Dearborne's  cattle  have  broke  into  the  sarce 
garden.  January  went  out,  tho'  Sail  say'd  it  was  no  use, 
for  she  knew  the  noise  of  the  geese,  they  always  kept  close 
to  the  house  at  night,  for  fear  of  the  varmin.  Presently  in 
runs  old  Snow,  with  his  hair  standin  up  an  eend,  and  the 
whites  of  his  eyes  lookin  as  big  as  the  rims  of  a  soup  plate  ; 
Oh  !  Gor  Ormity,  said  he,  oh  massa,  oh  Miss  Sally,  oh !  I 
What  on  airth  is  the  matter  with  you,  said  Sally,  how  you 
do  frighten  me,  I  vow  I  believe  you're  mad— oh  my  Gor, 
said  he,  oh !  massa  Jim  Munroe  he  hang  himself  on  the 
ash  saplin  under  Miss  Sally's  window-— oh  my  Gor ! ! ! 
That  shot  was  a  settler,  it  struck  poor  Sal  right  atwixt  wind 
and  water ;  she  gave  a  lurch  ahead,  and  then  heeled  over 
and  sunk  right  down  in  another  faintin  fit ;  and  Juno,  old 
Snow's  wife,  carried  her  off  and  laid  her  down  on  the  bed 
— poor  thing,  she  felt  ugly  enough,  I  do  suppose. 

Well,  father,  I  thought  he'd  a  fainted  too,  he  was  so 
struck  up  all  of  a  heap,  he  was  completely  bung  fungered  ; 
dear,  dear,  said  he,  I  didn't  think  it  would  come  to  pass  so 
soon,  but  I  knew  it  would  come ;  I  foretold  it,  says  I,  the 
last  time  I  seed  him  ;  Jim,  says  I,  mind  what  I  say,  you'll 
»tDing  for  it  yeU  Give  me  the  sword  I  wore  when  I  was 
ai  Bunker's  hill,  may  be  there's  life  yet,  I'll  cut  him  down. 
The  lantern  was  soon  made  ready,  and  out  we  went  to  the 


SISTER  SALL*S  COUMTSHIP. 


105 


you 
Gor, 

the 
>r!!! 
wind 
over 
>,  old 

bed 

IS  so 

^red; 

3s  so 

L  the 

hull 

was 

)wn. 

the 


ash  saplin.  Cut  me  down,  Sam,  that's  a  good  fellow,  said 
Jim,  all  the  blood  in  my  body  has  swashed  into  my  head, 
and's  a  runnin  out  o'  my  noee,  I'm  een  a  most  smothered-^ 
be  quick,  for  heaven's  sake.  The  Lord  be  praised,  said 
father,  the  poor  sinner  is  not  quite  dead  yet.  Why,  as  I'm 
alive — well  if  that  don't  beat  all  natur,  why  he  has  hanged 
himself  by  one  leg,  and's  a  swingin  like  a  rabbit  upside 
down,  that's  a  fact.  Why,  if  he  aint  snared,  Sam ;  he  is 
properly  wired  I  declare — I  vow  this  is  some  o'  your  doins, 
Sam — well  it  was  a  clever  scheme  too,  but  a  little  grain  too 
dangerous,  I  guess.  Don't  stand  starin  and  jawin  there  all 
night,  said  Jim,  cut  me  down,  I  tell  you — or  cut  my  throat, 
and  be  damned  to  you,  for  I'm  choakin  with  blood.  Roll 
over  that  are  hogshead,  old  Snow,  said  I,  till  I  get  a  top  on  it 
and  cut  him  down  ;  so  I  soon. released  him,  but  he  couldn't 
walk  a  bit.  His  ankle  wa^  swelled  and  sprained  like  vcn< 
geance,  and  he  swore  one  leg  was  near  about  six  inches 
longer  than  tother.  Jim  Munroe,  says  father,  little  did  I 
think  I  should  ever  see  you  inside  my  door  agin,  but  I  bid 
you  enter  now,  we  owe  you  that  kindness,  any  how. 

Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  Jim  was  so  chap-fallen 
and  so  down  in  the  mouth,  he  begged  for  heaven's  sake 
it  might  be  kept  a  secret ;  he  said  he  would  run  the  state, 
if  ever  it  got  wind,  he  was  sure  he  couldn't  stand  it.  It 
will  be  one  while,  I  guess,  said  father,  afore  you  are  able 
to  run  or  stand  either ;  but  if  you  will  give  me  your  hand, 
Jim,  and  promise  to  give  over  your  evil  ways,  I  will  not 
only  keep  it  secret,  but  you  shall  be  a  welcome  guest^  at 
old  Sam  Slick's  once  more,  for  the  sake  of  your  father — 
he  was  a  brave  man,  one  of  the  heroes  of  Bunker's  hill, 

be  was  our  sarjeant  and .   He  promises,  says  I,  father 

(for  the  old  man  had  stuck  his  right  foot  out,  the  way  he 
always  stood  when  he  told  about  the  old  war ;  and  as  Jim 
couldn't  stir  a  peg,  it  was  a  grand  chance,  and  he  was 
agoin  to  give  him  the  whole  revolution,  from  Greneral  Gage 
up  to  Independence,)  he  promises,  says  I,  father.  Well 
it  was  all  settled,  and  things  soon  grew  as  calm  as  a  pan 
of  milk  two  days  old;  and  afore  a  year  was  over,  Jim 
was  as  steady  agoin  man  as  Minister  Joshua  Hopewell, 
and  was  married  to  our  Sail.  Nothin  was  ever  said  about 
the  snare  till  arter  the  weddin=     When  the  minisN^r  had 


"■i#.;:'j£-?Jk.*.>  J'-ttr.  ■-■'..? 


100 


THE  OLOCKMAKBR. 


finished  axin  a  blessin,  father  goes  up  to  Jim,  and  says 
he,  Jim  Munroe,  my  boy,  givin  him  a  rousin  slap  on  the 
shoulder  that  sot  him  a  coughin  for  the  matter  of  five 
minutes,  (for  he  was  a  mortal  powerful  man,  was  father,) 
Jim  Munroei,  my  boy,  says  he,  you've  got  the  snare  round 
your  neck,  I  guess  now,  instead  of  your  leg ;  the  saplin 
has  been  a  father  to  you,  you  may  be  the  father  of  many 
saplins. 

We  had  a  most  special  time  of  it,  you  may  depend,  all 
except  the  minister ;  father  got  him  into  a  corner,  and  gave 
him  chapter  and  verse  for  the  whole  war.  Every  now  and 
then  as  I  come  near  them,  I  heard  Bunker's  Hill,  Brandy- 
wine,  Clinton,  Gates,  and  so  on.  It  was  broad  day  when 
we  parted,  and  the  last  that  went  was  poor  minister.  Father 
followed  him  clean  down  to  the  gate,  and  says  he.  Minister, 
we  had'nt  time  this  hitch,  or  I'd  a  told  you  all  about  the 
Evakyation  of  New  York,  but  I'll  tell  you  that  the  next 
time  we  meet. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


SETTING  UP  TOR  GOVERNOR. 

I  NEVER  see  one  of  them  queer  little  old-fashioned  tea- 
pots, like  that  are  in  the  cupboard  of  Marm  Pugwash,  said 
the  Clockmaker,  that  I  don't  think  of  Lawyer  Crowning- 
shield  and  his  wife.  When  I  was  down  to  Rhode  Island 
last,  I  spent  an  evening  with  them.  After  I  had  been  there 
awhile,  the  black  house-help  brought  in  a  little  home-made 
dipt  candle,  stuck  in  a  turnip  sliced  in  two,  to  make  it 
stand  straight,  and  sot  it  down  on  the  table.  Why,  says 
the  Lawyer  to  his  wife,  Increase,  my  dear,  what  on  earth 
is  the  meanin  o'  that?  What  does  little  Viney  mean  by 
bringin  in  such  a  light  as  this,  that  aint  fit  for  even  a  log 
hut  of  one  of  our  free  and  enlightened  citizens  away  down 
east ;  where's  the  lamp  ?  My  dear,  says  she,  I  ordered 
it — you  know  they  are  a  goin  to  set  you  up  for  Governor 
next  year,  and  I  allot  we  must  economise  or  we  will  bo 


BRTTIirO   UP   rOR  OOVBRirOR. 


lO** 


tea- 
said 
ling- 
sland 
^here 
lade 
le  it 


ruined — ^the  salary  is  only  four  hundred  dollars  a  year, 
you  know,  and  youUl  have  to  give  up  your  practice — we 
can't  afford  nothin  now.  ^  *   ^'  'x*^^-. ."-*%.■>■ 

Well,  when  tea  was  brought  in,  there  was  a  little  wee 
china  teapot,  that  held  about  the  matter  of  half  a  pint  or 
so,  and  cups  and  sarcers  about  the  bigness  of  children's 
toys.     When  he  seed  that,  he  grew  most  peskily  ryled, 
his  under  lip  curled  down  like  a  peach  leaf  that's  got  a 
worm  in  it,  and  he  stripped  his  teeth  and   showed  his 
grinders,  like  a  bull  dog.     What  foolery  is  this,  said  he  ? 
My  dear,  said  she,  it's  the  foolery  of  being  Governor ;  if 
you  choose  to  sacrifice  all  your  comfort  to  being  the  first 
nmg  in  the  ladder,  dont  blame  me  for  it.    I  did'nt  nomi- 
nate you — I  had  not  art  nor  part  in  it.     It  was  cooked  up 
at  that  are  Convention,  at  Town  Hall.    Well,  he  sot  for 
some  time  without  sayin  a  word,  lookin  as  black  as  a  thun- 
der cloud,  just  ready  to  make  all  natur  crack  agin.    At 
last  he  gets  up,  and  walks  round  behind  his  wife  s  chair, 
and  takin  her  face  between  his  two  hands,  he  turns  it  up 
and  gives  her  a  buss  that  went  off  like  a  pistol — it  fairly 
made  my  mouth  water  to  see  him ;  thinks  I,  them  lips  aint 
a  bad  bank  to  deposit  one's  spare  kisses  in,  neither.    In- 
crease, my  dear,  said  he,  I  believe  you  are  half  right,  I'll 
decline  to-morrow,  I'll  have  nothin  to  do  with  it — /  wont  be 
a  Gwernor,  on  no  account. 

Well,  she  had  to  haw  and  gee  like,  both  a  little,  afore 
she  could  get  her  head  out  of  his  hands ;  and  then  she 
said,  Zachariah,  says  she,  how  you  do  act,  aint  you 
ashamed  ?  Do  for  gracious  sake  behave  yourself:  and  she 
colored  up  all  over  like  a  crimson  piany;  if  you  hav'nt 
foozled  all  my  hair  too,  that's  a  fact,  says  she ;  and  she 
put  her  curls  to  rights,  and  looked  as  pleased  as  fun,  though 
poutin  all  the  time,  and  walked  right  out  of  the  room.  Pre- 
sently in  come  two  well  dressed  house-helps,  one  with  a 
splendid  gilt  lamp,  a  real  London  touch,  and  another  with 
a  tea  tray,  with  a  large  solid  silver  coflee-pot,  and  tea-pot, 
and  a  cream  jug,  and  sugar  bowl,  of  the  same  genuine 
metal,  and  a  most  an  elegant  set  of  real  gilt  china.  Then 
in  came  Marm  Crowningshield,  herself,  lookin  as  proud  as 
if  she  would  not  call  the  President  her  cousin ;  and  she 
gave  the  Lawyer  a  look,  as  much  as  to  say.  I  guess  when 


108 


TIHK  CMMKIUKW* 


■^ 


^.•■f5. 


,\ 


Mr.  Slick  is  gone,  I'll  pay  you  off  that  are  kiss  with  inter- 
est, you  dear  you — I'll  answer  a  bill  at  sight  for  it,  I  will, 
you  may  depend. 

I  believe,  said  he  agin,  you  are  right,  Increase,  my 
dear,  its  an  expensive  kind  of  honor  that  bcin  Governor, 
and  no  great  thanks  neither ;  great  cry  and  little  wool, 
all  talk  and  no  cider — its  enough  I  guess  for  a  man  to 
govern  his  own  family,  aint  it,  dear  ?  Sartin,  my  love, 
said  she,  sartin,  a  man  is  never  so  much  in  his  own 
proper  sphere  as  there ;  and  beside,  said  she,  his  will  is 
supreme  to  home,  there  is  no  danger  of  any  one  non- 
concurring  him  there,  and  she  gave  me  a  sly  look,  as 
much  as  to  say,  I  let  him  think  he  is  master  in  his  own 
house, /or  when  ladies  wear  the  breechesy  their  petticoats 
ought  to  be  long  enough  to  hide  them  ;  but  I  allot,  Mr. 
Slick,  you  can  see  with  half  an  eye  that  the  '  grey  mare  is 
the  better  horse  here.'  i  i»    , 

What  a  pity  it  is,  continued  the  Clockmaker,  that  the 
bluc-noses  would  not  take  a  leaf  out  of  Marm  Crowning- 
shield's  book — talk  more  of  their  own  affairs  and  less  of 
politics.  I'm  6ick  of  the  everlastin  sound  of  *  House  of  As- 
sembly,' and  *  Council,'  and  *  great  folks.'  They  never 
alleviate  talking  about  them  from  July  to  etarnity. 

I  had  a  curious  conversation  about  politics  once,  away 
up  to  the  right  here.  Do  you  see  that  are  house,  said  he, 
in  the  field,  that's  got  a  lurch  to  leeward,  like  a  north  river 
sloop,  struck  with  a  squall,  off  West  Point,  lopsided  like  ? 
It  looks  like  Seth  Pine,  a  tailor  down  to  Hartford,  that  had 
one  leg  shorter  than  tother,  when  he  stood  at  ease  at  militia 
trainin,  a  restin  on  the  littlest  one.  Well,  I  had  a  special 
frolic  there  the  last  time  I  passed  this  way.  I  lost  the  linch 
pin  out  of  my  for  red  axle,  and  I  turned  up  there  to  get  it 
sot  to  rights.  Just  as  I  drove  through  the  gate,  I  saw  the 
eldest  gall  a  makin  for  the  house  for  dear  life — she  had  a 
short  petticoat  on  that  looked  like  a  kilt,  and  her  bare  legs 
put  me  in  mind  Oit*  the  long  shanks  of  a  bittern  down  in  a 
rush  swamp,  a  drivin  away  like  mad  full  chizel  arter  a 
frog.  I  could  not  think  what  on  airth  was  the  matter. 
Thinks  I,  she  wants  to  make  herself  look  decent  like  afore 
I  get  in,  she  don't  like  to  pull  her  stockings  on  afore  me ; 
so  I  pulls  up  the  old  ho'^^ie  and  let  her  have  a  fair  start. 


J*...       -i*  .„.: 


SETTiiro  UP  ron  qovbiinor. 


109 


start. 


Well,  when  I  came  to  the  door,  I  heard  a  proper  scuddin ; 
there  was  a  regular  flight  into  Egypt,  jist  such  a  noise  as 
little  children  make  when  the  mistress  comes  suddenly  into 
school,  all  a  huddlin  and  scroudgin  into  their  seats  as  quick 
as  wink.  Dear  mo,  says  the  old  woman,  as  she  put  her 
head  out  of  a  broken  window  to  avail  who  it  was,  is  it  you 
Mr.  Slick  ?  I  sniggers,  if  you  did  not  frighten  us  properly 
we  actilly  thought  it  was  the  Sheriff;  do  come  in.  ^V'' 
Poor  thing,  she  looked  half  starved  and  half  savage, 
hunger  and  temper  had  made  proper  strong  lines  in  her 
face,  like  water  furrows  in  a  ploughed  field ;  she  looked 
bony  and  thin,  like  a  horse  that  has  had  more  work  than 
oats,  and  had  a  wicked  expression,  as  though  it  war'nt  over 
safe  to  come  too  near  her  heels — an  evcrlastin"  kicker. 
You  may  come  out,  John,  said  she  to  her  husband,  its  only 
Mr.  Slick ;  and  out  came  John  from  under  the  bed  back- 
wards,  on  all  fours,  like  an  ox  out  of  the  shoein  frame,  or 
a  lobster  skullin  wrong  eend  foremost — he  looked  as  wild 
as  a  hawk.  Well,  I  swan  I  thought  I  should  have  split,  I 
could  hardly  keep  from  bursting  right  out  with  larller — he 
was  all  covered  with  feathers,  lint,  and  dust,  the  savins  of 
all  the  sweepins  since  the  house  was  built,  shoved  under 
there  for  tidiness.  He  actilly  sneezed  for  the  matter  of  ten 
minutes — he  seemed  half-choked  with  the  flaff  and  stuff, 
that  came  out  with  him  like  a  cloud.  Lord,  he  looked  like 
a  goose  half-picked,  as  if  all  the  quills  were  gone,  but  the 
pen  feathers  and  down  were  led,  jist  ready  for  singin  and 
stuffin.  He  put  me  in  mind  of  a  sick  Adjutant,  a  great  tall 
hulkin  bird,  that  comes  from  the  East  Indgies,  a  most  as 
high  as  a  man,  and  most  as  knowin  as  a  blue-nose.  I'd  a 
ginn  a  hundred  dollars  to  have  had  that  chap  as  a  show  at 
a  fair — tar  and  feathers  warn't  half  as  nateral.  You've 
seen  a  gall  both  larf  and  cry  at  the  same  time,  hante  you  ? 
well,  I  hope  I  may  be  shot  if  I  could'nt  have  done  the  same. 
To  see  'that  critter  come  like  a  turkey  out  of  a  bag  at 
Christmas,  to  be  fired  at  for  two  cents  a  shot,  was  as  good 
as  a  play ;  but  to  look  round  and  see  the  poverty — the  half 
naked  children — the  old  pine  stumps  for  chairs — a  small 
bin  of  poor  watery  yaller  potatoes  in  the  corner — daylight 
through  the  sides  and  roof  of  the  house,  looking  like  the 


tarred 


seams 
10 


of  a  shin,  all  black  where  the 


smoke  got  oui 


I 


';.•.',.  s 


h-ii. 


.A  f-: 


\ 

\ 


110 


,rt<*- 


THB   OLOCKMAKBK. 


— no  utcnHils  for  cookin  or  catiii — and  starvation  wrote  os 
plain  ns  a  handbill  on  their  holler  cheeks,  skinny  finf^ers, 
and  giJTik  eyes,  went  right  straight  to  the  heart.  1  du  declare 
I  bc!lieve  I  should  hove  cried,  only  they  did'nt  8e«!m  to  mind 
it  themselves.  They  had  been  used  to  it,  like  a  man  that's 
married  to  n  thuiiderin  ugly  wife,  he  gets  so  accustomed  to 
the  look  of  her  evcrlustin  aismal  mug,  that  iie  don't  think 
her  ugly  at  all. 

Well,  therr  was  another  chop  a  settin  by  the  fire,  and  ho 
did  look  as  if  he  saw  it  and  felt  it  too,  he  did'nt  seem  ovei 
half  pleased,  you  may  depend.  He  was  the  District  School- 
master,  and  he  told  me  he  was  takin  a  spell  at  board"', 
there,  for  it  was  their  turn  to  keep  him.  Thinks  I  to  luy- 
self,  poor  devil,  you've  brought  your  pigs  to  a  pretty  nwir'^t, 
that's  a  fact.  I  see  how  it  is,  the  blue-noses  cnn't '  <;"pher.' 
1'hc  cat's  out  of  the  bag  now — its  no  wonder  thr  i  •  .I't  go 
ahead,  for  they  don't  know  nothin — the  '  Schoohiiaster  is 
(xhroad^  with  the  devil  to  it,  for  he  has  no  home  at  all. 
Why,  Squire,  you  might  jist  as  well  expect  a  horse  to  go 
right  off  in  gear,  before  he  is  halter  broke,  as  a  blue-nose  to 
get  on  in  the  world,  when  he  has  got  no  schoolin. 

But  to  get  back  to  my  story.  Well,  says  I,  how's  times 
with  you,  Mrs.  Spry  ?  Dull,  says  she,  very  dull,  there's 
no  markets  now,  things  don't  fetch  nothin.  Thinks  I, 
some  folks  hnd'nt  ought  to  complain  of  markets,  for  they 
don't  raise  n-xijin  to  sell,  but  I  did'nt  say  ao ;  for  poverty 
is  keen  enon^h^  tcHhotit  sharpening  its  edge  hypokinfun  at 
it.  Potatoes,  says  I,  will  fetch  a  good  price  this  fall,  for 
its  a  short  crop  m  a  general  way  ;  how's  yourn?  Grand, 
says  she,  as  complete  as  ever  you  seed ;  our  tops  were 
small  and  did'nt  look  well ;  but  we  have  the  handsomest 
bottoms,  it  is  generally  allowed,  in  all  our  place ;  you  never 
seed  the  beat  of  them,  they  are  actilly  worth  lookin  at.  I 
vow  I  had  to  take  a  chaw  of  tobacky  to  keep  from  snorting 
right  out,  it  sounded  so  queer  I^'a.;.  Thinks  I  to  myself 
old  lady,  it's  a  p'ty  you  could'nt  be  vh ;.  if^d  eend  ''  •  eeriu 
then,  as  some  folks  do  their  s^'»''VI  i^^J '  it  would  improve 
the  looks  of  your  dial  plate  amazmly  then,  that's  a  fact. 

Now,  there  was  human  natur,  squire,  said  the  Clock- 
maker,  there  was  pride  even  in  that  hovel.  It  is  found  in 
rags  as  well  as  kings'  robes,  where  butter  is  spread  with 


^.f-^i  m.--wi  I 


TfP^r^'^*^, 


^■M  r 


SBTTIira    UP   FOR   OOVBRIfOR. 


Ill 


:i 


the  thumb  na  -  v-qM  as  tho  silver  knife,  natur  it  natvr^  whtr» 
ever  you  Jind  it. 

Jist  thon,  in  came  one  or  two  neighbours  to  sec  the  sfmrt, 
for  they  tuuk  i  ^or  a  shuriH*  or  a  constable,  or  something 
of  that  brcril,  and  wh(  n  they  saw  it  was  me  they  sol  dowa 
to  hear  tliu  i.  ws  ;  the>  It  II  ri^ht  to  at  politics  a>«  keen  as 
anything,  as  if  it  had  been  a  dish  ofrral  Connecticut  Slap 
Jacks,  or  Hominy  ;  or  what  is  better  sliU,  a  glass  of  rea 
genuine  splendid  mint  julep,  whe-eu-upy  it  fairly  makes  my 
mouth  water  to  think  of  it.  I  wond(T,  says  one,  what  they 
will  do  for  us  this  winter  in  the  House  >f  Assembly  t 
Nothin,  says  the  other,  they  never  do  nothin  but  what  the 
great  peeple  at  Halifax  tell  'em.  Squire  Yeoman  is  the 
man,  he'll  pay  up  the  great  folks  this  hitch,  heMI  let  'em 
have  their  own,  he's  jist  the  boy  that  can  do  it.  Says  I,  I 
wish  I  could  say  all  men  were  as  honest  then,  for  I  am 
afcard  there  are  a  great  many  wont  pay  me  up  this  win- 
ter; I  should  like  to  trade  with  your  fri'-nd,  who  is  het 
Why,  says  he,  he  is  the  member  for  Isle  S.  Me  County,  and 
if  he  don't  let  the  great  folks  have  it,  it's  a  pity.  Who  do 
you  call  great  folks,  for,  said  I,  I  vow,  I  havn  seed  one  since 
I  came  here.  The  only  one  that  I  know  th  it  comes  near 
hand  to  one  is  Nicholas  Overknocker,  that  1  ves  all  along 
shore,  about  Margaret's  Bay,  and  he  is  a  great  man,  it 
takes  a  yoke  of  oxen  to  drag  him.  When  I  first  seed  him,  • 
says  I,  what  on  airth  is  the  matter  o'  that  man,  has  he  the 
dropsy,  for  he  is  actilly  the  greatest  man  I  ev(  r  seed ;  ho 
must  weigh  the  matter  of  five  hundred  weight  ;  he'd  cut 
three  inches  on  the  rib,  he  must  have  a  proper  si;j;ht  of  lard, 
that  chap?  No,  says  I,  don't  call  'em  great  men,  for  there 
aint  a  great  man  in  the  country,  that's  a  fact ;  i  here  aint 
one  that  desarves  the  name ;  folks  will  only  larf  i.t  you  if  ^ 
you  talk  that  way.  There  may  be  some  rich  men,  and  I 
believe  there  be,  and  it's  a  pity  there  warn't  more  on  'em, 
and  a  still  greater  pity  they  have  so  little  spirit  or  ei  erprise 
among  'em,  but  a  country  is  none  the  worse  hav.  ig  rich 
men  in  it,  you  may  depend.  Great  folks  !  well,  comt ,  that's 
a  good  joke,  that  bangs  the  bush.  No,  my  friend,  says  1, 
the  meat  that's  at  the  top  of  the  barrel^  is  sometimes  not  so 
good  as  that  that'^s  a  little  grain  lower  down :  the  upper 


«■'    -1 


.„lT  -K- -.."i,  ,,.^  .■a, ,  V-i 


-■;n.jr,....^_,^-f: 


m 


112 


THE   OIOCKNAKER. 


r 


Iv 


'  w 


and  lower  eendi  are  plaguy  apt  to  have  a  little  taitU  in  \mt  '■ 
but  the  middle  i»  ahoays  good.  > 

Well,  says  the  blue-nose,  perhaps  they  beant  great  men, 
exactly  in  that  sense,  but  they  are  great  men  compared  to 
us  poor  folks;  and  they  eat  up  all  the  revenue,  thereV 
nothin  l^fl  for  roads  and  bridges,  they  want  to  ruin  the 
country,  that's  a  fact.  Want  to  ruin  your  granny,  says  I, 
(for  it  raised  my  dander  to  hear  the  critter  talk  such  non- 
sense,) I  did  hear  of  one  chap,  says  I,  that  sot  fire  to  his 
own  house  once,  up  to  Squantum,  but  the  cunnin  rascal 
insured  it  first ;  now  how  can  your  great  folks  ruin  the 
country  without  ruinin  themselves,  unless  they  have  insured 
the  Province?  our  folks  will  insure  all  creation  for  half 
nothin,  but  I  never  heerd  tell  of  a  country  being  insured 
agin  rich  men.  Now  if  you  ever  go  to  Wall  Street  to  get 
such  a  policy,  leave  the  door  open  behind  you,  that's  all ; 
or  they'll  grab  right  hold  of  you,  shave  your  head  and 
blister  it,  clap  a  strait  jacket  on  you,  and  whip  you  right 
into  a  mad  house,  afore  you  can  say  Jack  Robinson.  No/ 
your  great  men*  are  nothin  but  rich  men,  and  I  can  tell  you 
for  your  comfort,  there's  nothin  to  hinder  you  from  bein 
rich  too,  if  you  will  take  the  same  means  as  they  did.  They 
were  once  all  as  poor  folks  as  you  be,  or  their  fathers  afore 
them ;  for  I  know  their  whole  breed,  seed,  and  generation, 
and  they  wouldn't  thank  you  to  tell  them  that  you  knew 
their  fathers  and  grandfathers,  I  tell  you.  If  ever  you  want 
the  loan  of  a  hundred  pounds  from  any  of  them,  keep  dark 
about  that — see  as  far  ahead  as  you  please,  but  it  tante 
always  pleasant  to  have  folks  see  too  far  back.  Perhaps 
they  be  a  little  proud  or  so,  but  that's  nateral ;  all  folks 
that  grow  up  right  off,  like  a  mushroom  in  one  night,  are 
apt  to  think  no  small  beer  of  themselves.  A  cabbage  has 
plaguy  large  leaves  to  the  bottom,  and  spreads  them  out  as 
wide  as  an  old  woman's  petticoats,  to  hide  the  ground  it 
sprung  from,  and  conceal  its  extraction,  but  what's  that  to 
you  ?  If  they  get  too  large  salaries,  dock  'em  down  at 
once,  but  don't  keep  talkin  about  it  for  everlastinly.  If  you 
have  too  many  sarvants,  pay  some  of  'em  off,  or  w^hen  they 
(|uit  your  sarvice  don't  hire  others  in  their  room,  that's  all  • 
bu*  you  miss  your  mark  when  you  keep  firin  away  the 
whole  blessed  time  that  way.  .  ' 


AU:i.'*t.4.-*t--j*.:^.^ati..!iw;;i,  .tL^'r^-LJ  i»'i.'ii.iV".'j'_iJ..;,  _,1«^.^ 


'.''"-;VV  j:i>->.>J.t.",..i''d£i.'v  > 


SETTIHO   UP  FOR  GOVERNOR. 


113 


I  went  out  a  gunnia  when  I  wa;.  a  boy,  and  father  went 
with  me  to  teach  me.  Well  the  first  flock  of  plover  I  see'd 
I  let  slip  at  them  and  missed  them.  Says  father,  says  he, 
What  a  blockhead  you  be,  Sam,  that's  your  own  fault,  they 
were  too  far  off,  you  had'nt  ou^ht  to  have  fired  so  soon. 
At  Bunker's  hill  we  let  the  British  come  right  on  till  we 
seed  the  whites  of  their  eyes,  and  then  we  let  them  have 
it  slap  bang.  Well,  I  felt  kinder  grigged  at  missin  my 
shot,  and  I  didn't  over  half  like  to  be  scolded  too ;  so  says 
I,  Yes,  father ;  but  recollect  you  had  a  mud  bank  to  hide 
behind,  where  you  were  proper  safe,  and  you  had  a  rest 
for  your  guns  too ;  but  as  soon  as  you  seed  a  little  more 
than  the  whites  of  their  eyes,  you  run  for  your  dear  life, 
full  split,  and  so  I  don't  see  much  to  brag  on  in  that  arter 
all,  so  come  dom'.  I'll  teach  you  to  talk  that  way,  you 
puppy  you,  said  he,  of  that  glorious  day ;  and  he  fetched 
mc  a  wipe  that  I  do  believe,  if  I  hadn't  a  dodged,  would 
have  spoiled  my  gunnin  for  that  hitch ;  so  I  gave  him  a 
wide  birth  arter  that  all  day.  Well,  the  next  time  I  miss- 
ed, says  I,  she  hung  fire  so  everlastiniy,  it's  no  wonder, 
and  the  next  miss,  says  I,  the  powder  is  no  good,  I  vow. 
Well,  I  missed  every  shot,  and  I  had  an  excuse  for  every 
one  on  'em — -the  flint  was  bad,  or  she  flashed  in  the  pan, 
or  the  shot  scaled,  or  something  or  another ;  and  when  all 
would'nt  do,  I  swore  the  gun  was  no  good  at  all.  Now, 
says  father,  (and  he  edged  up  all  the  time,  to  pay  me  off 
for  that  hit  at  his  Bunker  hill  story,  which  was  the  only 
shot  I  did'nt  miss,)  you  han't  got  the  right  reason  arter  all.  _ 
It  was  your  own  fault,  Sam. 

Now  that's  jist  the  ,case  with  you ;  you  may  blame 
Banks  and  Council,  and  House  of  Assembly,  and  '  the  great 
men,'  till  you  are  tired,  but  it's  all  your  own  fault — you've 
no  spirit  and  no  enterprise^  you  loant  industry  and 
economy;  vse  thenij  and  you'll  soon  be  as  rich  as  the 
people  at  Halifax  you  call  great  folks — they  did'nt  grow 
rich  by  talking,  but  by  workin;  instead  of  lookin  after 
other  folks'  business,  they  looked  about  the  keenest  arter 
their  own.  You  are  like  the  machinery  of  one  of  our 
boats,  good  enough,  and  strong  enough,  but  of  no  airthly 
Use  till  you  get  the  steam  up ;  you  want  to  be  set  in  motion, 
and  then  you'll  go  ahead  like  any  thing,  you  .nay  depend 


114 


'-*  THE  CLOCKltAKER. 


Give  up  politics — ifs  a  barren  Jleldf  and  well  watched 
too ;  where  ofte  critter  jumpa  a  fence  into  a  good  jield 
and  gets  fat,  more  nor  twenty  are  chased  round  and 
round,  by  a  whole  pack  of  yelpin  curs,  till  they  are  fairly 
beat  out,  and  eend  by  vein  half  starved,  and  are  at  the 
liftin  at  last.  Look  to  your  farms — your  water  powerk 
— your  fisheries,  and  factories.  In  short,  says  /,  puttin 
on  my  hat  and  startin,  look  to  yourselves,  and  donH  look 
to  others. 


:'ii»,v^>'?^.  -.i-i " 'i 


1 

*     'r 

'•'•  *'  -■- 

i 

■' -t..  "-■ 

■. .  'fc  1 

'^ 

m^r 

CHAPTER  XXn. 
A  CURE  FOR  CONCEIT. 


Its  a  most  curious  unaccountable  thing,  but  it's  a  fact,- 
said  the  Clockmaker,  the  blue-noses  are  so  conceited,  they 
think  they  know  every  thing ;  and  yet  there  aint  a  livin 
soul  in  Nova  Scotia  knows  his  own  business  real  complete, 
farmer  or  fisherman,  lawyer  or  doctor,  or  any  other  folk. 
A  farmer  said  to  me  one  day,  up  to  Pugnose's  inn,  at 
River  Philip,  Mr.  Slick,  says  he,  I  allot  this  aint  *  a  bread 
country;^  I  intend  to  sell  off  the  house  I  improve,  and  go 
to  the  States.  If  it  aint  a  bread  country,  said  I,  I  never 
see'd  one  that  was.  There  is  more  bread  used  here,  made 
of  best  superfine  flour,  and  No.  1.  Genessee,  than  in  any 
other  place  of  the  same  population  in  the  univarse.  You 
might  as  well  say  it  aint  a  clock  country,  when,  to  my 
sartin  knowledge,  there  are  more  clocks  than  bibles  in  it. 
I  guess  you  expect  to  raise  your  bread  ready  made,  don't 
you  ?  Well  there's  only  one  class  of  our  free  and  enlight- 
ened citizens  that  can  do  that,  and  that's  them  that  are  born 
with  silver  spoons  in  their  mouths.  It's  a  pity  you  wasn't 
availed  of  this  truth,  afore  you  up  killoch  and  ofF— take  my 
advice  and  bide  where  you  be. 

Well,  the  fishermen  are  jist  as  bad.  The  next  time  you 
go  into  the  fish-market  at  Halifax,  stump  some  of  the  old 
hands ;  says  you,  *  how  many  fins  has  a  cod,  at  a  word,' 
and  I'll  liquidate  the  bet  if  you  lose  it.    When  I've  been 


' 


A  CVRB  rOR  O0^Cf3T. 


M$ 


U 


at 


any 

You 

o  my 

in  it. 

don't 

light- 

born 

asn't 

emy 


old 
lord/ 
IbeeQ 


along'Shore  aibre  now,  a  vend'.n  of  my  clocks,  and  they  be*' 
gan  to  raise  my  dander,  by  belittling  the  Yankees,  I  always 
brought  them  up  by  a  round  turn  by  that  requirement, 
*  how  many  fins  has  a  cod,  at  a  word/  Well,  they  never 
could  answer  it ;  and  then,  says  I,  when  you  lam  your  owrt- 
business,  I  guess  it  will  be  time  enough  to  teach  other  folks 
theirn. 

How  different  it  is  with  our  men  folk,  if  they  can't  get 
through  a  question,  how  beautifully  they  can  go  round  it, 
can't  they  1   Nothin  never  stops  them  :  I  had  two  brothers, 
Josiah  and  Eldad,  one  was  a  lawyer,  and  the  other  a  doctor. 
They  were  a  talkin  about  their  examinations  one  night,  at 
a  buskin  frolic,  up  to  Governor  Ball's  big  stone  barn  at 
Slickville.    Says  Josy,  When  I  was  examined,  the  Judge 
axed  me  all  about  real  estate ;  and,  says  he,  Josiah,  sayd 
he,  what's  a  fee  ?    Why,  says  I,  Judge,  it  depends  on  the 
natur  of  the  case.    In  a  common  one,  says  I,  I  call  six 
dollars  a  pretty  fair  one ;  but  lawyer  Webster  has  got  afore 
pow,  I've  heerd  tell,  1,000  dollars,  and  that  I  do  call  a  fee. 
Well,  the  Judge  he  larfed  ready  to  split  his  sides ;  (thinks 
I,  old  chap,  you'll  bust  like  a  steam  byler,  if  you  han't  got 
a  safety  valve  somewhere  or  another,)  and  says  he,  I  vow 
that's  superfine  ;  I'll  indorse  your  certificate  for  you,  young 
man ;  there's  no  fear  of  you,  you'll  pass  the  inspection 
brand  any  how.  -: 

Well,  says  Eldad,  I  hope  I  may  be  skinned  if  the  same 
thing  didn't  een  amost  happen  to  me  at  my  examination. 
They  axed  me  a  nation  sight  of  questions,  some  on  ""em  1 
could  answer,  and  some  on  'em  no  soul  could,  right  off  the 
reel  at  a  word,  without  a  little  cypherin ;  at  last  they  axed 
me,  *  How  would  you  calculate  to  put  a  patient  into  a  sweat 
when  common  modes  wouldn't  work  no  how  ?  Why,  says 
I,  I'd  do  as  Dr.  Comfort  Payne  sarved  father.  And  how 
was  that,  said  they.  Why,  says  I,  he  put  him  into  such  a 
sweat  as  I  never  seed  in  him  afore,  in  all  my  born  days, 
since  I  was  raised,  by  sending  him  in  his  bill,  and  if  that 
didn't  sweat  him  its  a  pity  ;  it  was  an  active  dose  you  may 
depend.  I  guess  that  are  chap  has  cut  his  eye  teeth,  said 
the  President,  let  him  pass  as  approbated. 

They  both  knowed  well  enough,  they  only  made  as  if 
(hey  didn't,  to  poke  a  little  fun  at  them,  for  the  Sliek  family 


^..Ij^i'L.i,  ■. 


'iu;^£i£.£^; 


•■H 


116 


THE  CLOCKMAKCft. 


were  counted  ^n  a  general  way  to  be  pretty  considerable 
cute.  ^  ^''i' 

They  reckon  themselves  here,  a  chalk  above  us  Yankeesj 
but  I  guess  they  have  a  wrinkle  or  two  to  grow  afore  they 
progress  ahead  on  us  yet.  If  they  hanU  got  a  full  cargo 
of  conceit  here,  then  I  never  seeM  a  load,  that's  all.  They 
have  the  hold  chock  full,  deck  piled  up  to  the  pump  handles^ 
and  scuppers  under  water.  They  lamt  that  of  the  British, 
who  are  actilly  so  full  of  it,  they  remind  me  of  Commodore 
Trip.  When  he  was  about  half  shaved  he  thought  every 
body  drunk  but  himself.  I  never  liked  the  last  war,  I 
thought  it  unnateral,  and  that  we  hadn't  ought  to  Irnve 
taken  hold  of  it  at  all,  and  so  most  of  our  New  England  folks 
thought;  and  I  wasn't  sorry  to  hear  Gineral  Dearborne 
was  beat,  seein  we  had  no  call  to  go  into  Canada.  But 
when  the  Guerriere  was  captivated  by  our  old  Ironsides, 
the  Constitution,  I  did  feel  lifled  up  amost  as  high  as  a  stalk 
of  Varginy  corn  among  Connecticut  middlins ;  I  grew  two 
inches  taller,  I  vow,  the  night  I  heerd  that  news.  Brag, 
says  I,  is  a  good  dog,  but  hold  fast  is  better.  The  British 
navals  had  been  braggin  and  a  hectorin  so  long,  that  when 
they  landed  in  our  cities,  they  swaggered  e'en  amost  as 
Uncle  Peleg  (big  Peleg  as  he  was  called,)  and  when  he 
walked  up  the  centre  of  one  of  pur  narrow  Boston  streets, 
he  used  to  swing  his  arms  on  each  side  of  him,  so  that  folks 
had  to  clear  out  of  both  foot  paths ;  he's  cut,  afore  now, 
the  fingers  of  both  hands  agin  the  shop  windows  on  each 
side  of  the  street.  Many  the  poor  feller's  crupper  bone  he's 
smashed,  with  his  great  thick  boots,  a  throwin  out  his  feet 
afore  him  e'en  amost  out  of  sight,  when  he  was  in  full  rig 
a  swiggling  away  at  the  top  of  his  gait.  Well,  they  cut  as 
many  shines  as  Uncle  Peleg.  One  frigate,  they  guessed, 
would  captivate,  sink,  or  burn  our  whole  navy.  Says  a 
naval,  one  day,  to  the  skipper  of  a  fishing  boat  that  he  took, 
says  he,  Is  it  true.  Commodore  Decatur's  sword  is  made  of 
an  old  iron  hoop  ?  Well,  says  the  skipper,  I'm  not  quite 
certified  as  to  that,  seeing  as  I  never  sot  eyes  on  it  ;  but  I 
guess  if  he  gets  a  chance  he'll  show  you  the  temi)er  of  it 
some  of  these  days,  any  how.  i- 

I  mind  once  a  British  man-o'-war  took  one  of  our  Boston 
vessels,  and  ordered  all  nnnds  on  board,  and  sent  a  party  to 


' 


P 


.  J^     iC 


A  CURE  FOR  CONCEIT. 


117 


1  rig 


skuttle  her ;  well  they  skuttled  the  fowls  and  the  old  par- 
ticular genuine  rum,  but  they  obliviated  their  arrand  and 
left  her.  Well,  next  day  another  frigate  (for  they  were  as 
thick  as  toads  arter  a  rain)  comes  near  her  and  fires  a  shot 
for  her  to  bring  to.  No  answer  was  made,  there  bein  no 
livin  soul  on  board,  and  another  shot  fired,  still  no  answer. 
Why,  what  on  airth  is  the  meanin  of  this,  said  the  Captain, 
why  don't  they  haul  down  that  damn  goose  and  gridiron 
(that's  what  he  called  our  eagle  and  stars  on  the  flag.) 
Why,  says  the  first  leftenant,  I  guess  they  are  all  dead 
men,  that  shot  frightened  them  to  death.  They  are  afeard 
to  show  their  noses,  says  another,  lest  they  should  be 
shaved  off  by  our  shots.  They  are  all  down  below  a  *  caU 
culatiri'  their  loss,  I  guess,  says  a  third.  I'll  take  my  davy, 
says  the  Captain,  its  some  Yankee  trick,  a  torpedo  in  her 
bottom,  or  some  such  trap  —  we'll  let  her  be,  and  sure 
enough,  next  day,  back  she  came  to  shore  herself.  I'll  give 
you  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  says  the  Captain  of  the  Guer- 
riere  to  his  men,  to  take  that  are  Yankee  frigate,  the  Con- 
stitution. I  guess  he  found  his  mistake  where  he  didn't 
expect  it,  without  any  great  sarch  for  it  either.  Yes,  (to 
eventuate  my  story)  it  did  me  good,  I  felt  dreadful  nice,  I 
promise  you.  It  was  as  lovely  as  bitters  of  a  cold  raornin. 
Our  folks  beat  'em  arter  that  so  often,  they  got  a  little  grain 
too  much  conceit  also.  They  got  their  heels  too  high  for 
their  boots,  and  began  to  walk  like  uncle  Peleg  too,  so  that 
when  the  Chesapeake  got  whipped  I  warnt  sorry.  We  could 
itpare  that  one,  and  it  made  our  navals  look  round,  like  a 
feller  who  gets  a  hoist,  to  see  who's  a  larfin  at  him.  It 
made  'em  brush  the  dust  off,  and  walk  on  rather  sheepish. 
It  cut  their  combs,  that's  a  fkct.  The  war  did  us  a  plaguy 
sight  of  good  in  more  ways  than  one,  and  it  did  the  British 
some  good,  too.  It  taught  'em  not  to  carry  their  chins  too 
high,  for  fear  they  shouldn't  see  the  gutters — a  mistake 
that's  spoiled  many  a  bran  new  coat  and  trowsers  afore 
now. 

"  Well,  these  blue-noses  have  caught  this  disease,  as  folks 
do  the  Scotch  fiddle,  by  shakin  hands  along  with  the 
British.  Conceit  has  become  here,  as  Doctor  Rush  says, 
(you  have  heerd  tell  of  him,  he's  the  first  man  of  the  age, 
and  its  generally  allowed  our  doctors  take  the  shine  off  of 


■* 


^Mi\.,IWS*liS'.ji 


118 


THB   CLOCKMAKEII.V 


all  the  world)  acclimated,  it  is  citizeniscd  among  ^erh,  and 
the  only  cure  is  a  real  good  quiltin.  I  met  a  first  chop  CoU' 
Chester  Gag  this  summer  agoin  to  the  races  to  Halifax,  and 
he  knowed  as  much  about  racin,  I  do  suppose,  as  a  Chicta^v 
Ingian  does  of  a  railroad.  Well,  he  was  a  praisin  of  hia 
hors^,  and  runnin  on  like  Statiee.  He  was  begot,  he  said, 
by  Ronccsvalles,  which  was  better  than  any  horse  that  ever 
was  seen,  because  he  was  once  in  a  duke's  stable  in  Eng- 
land. It  was  only  a  man  that  had  blood  like  a  lord,  said 
he,  that  knew  what  blood  in  a  horse  was.  Captain  Curry- 
comb, an  officer  at  Halifax,  had  seen  his  horse  and  praised 
him,  and  that  was  enough — that  stamped  him — that  fixed 
his  value.  It  was  like  the  President's  name  to  a  bank  note, 
it  makes  it  pass  current.  Well,  says  I,  I  han't  got  a  drop 
of  blood  in  me  nothin  stronger  than  molasses  and  water,  I 
vow,  but  I  guess  I  know  a  horse  when  I  see  him  for  all 
that,  and  I  don't  think  any  great  shakes  of  your  beast,  any  - 
how  ;  what  start  will  you  give  me,  says  I,  and  I  will  run 
*  Old  Clay'  ngm  you,  for  a  mile  lick  right  an  eend.  Ten 
rods,  said  he,  for  twenty  dollars.  Well,  we  run,  and  I 
made  *  Old  Clay  bite  in  his  breath,  and  only  beat  him  by 
half  a  neck.  A  tight  scratch,  says  I,  that,  and  it  would' 
have  sarved  me  right  if  I  had  been  beat.  I  had  no  business, 
to  run  an  old  roadster  so  everlastin  fast,  it  aint  fair  on  him, 
is  it  ?  Says  he,  I  will  double  the  bet  and  start  even,  and 
run  you  agin  if  you  dare.  Well,  says  I,  since  I  won  the 
last  it  wouldn't  be  pretty  not  to  give  you  a  chance ;  I  dc 
suppose  I  oughn't  to  refuse,  but  I  don  t  love  to  abuse  my 
beast  by  knockin  him  about  this  way. 

As  soon  as  the  money  was  staked,  I  said,  Hadn't  we  bet- 
ter, says  I,  draw  stakes,  that  are  blood  horse  of  yourn  has 
such  uncommon  particular  bottom,  he'll  perhaps  leave  mo 
clean  out  of  sight.  No  fear  of  that,  said  he,  larfin,  but  he'll 
beat  you  easy,  any  how.  No  flinchin,  says  he,  I'll  not  let 
you  back  of  the  bargain.  Its  run  or  forfeit.  Well,  says 
I,  friend,  there  is  fear  of  it ;  your  horse  will  leave  me  out 
of  sight  to  a  sartainty,  that's  a  fact,  for  he  canU  keep  vp  to 
me  no  time.  I'll  drop  him,  hull  down,  in  tu  tu's.  If  Old 
Clay  didn't  make  a  fool  of  him,  it's  a  pity.  Didn't  he  gal- 
lop pretty,  that's  all  ?  He  walked  away  from  him,  jist  as 
tba  Chancellor  Livingston  steamboat  passes  a  sloop  at 


i 


A  CURB  TOR  COirCEIT. 


m9 


anchor  in  the  North  River.  Says  I,  I  told  you  your  horse 
would  beat  me  clean  out  of  sight,  but  you  wouldnU  believe 
mo ;  now,  says  I,  I  will  tell  you  something  else.  That  are 
horse  will  help  you  to  loose  more  money  to  Halifax  than 
you  are  a  thinkin  on ;  for  there  aint  a  beas^  gone  down 
there  that  won't  beat  him.  He  can't  run  a  bit,  and  you 
may  tell  the  British  Captain  I  say  so.  Take  him  home  ujid 
Hell  him^  buy  a  good  yoke  of  oxen  ;  they  are  fast  enough  for 
a  farmery  and  give  up  blood  horses  to  them  that  can  afford 
to  keep  stable-helps  to  tend  'em,  and  leave  bettin  alone  to 
them  as  has  more  money  nor  wit,  and  can  afford  to  lose  their 
cash,  without  thinkin  agin  of  their  loss.  When  I  want 
your  advice,  said  he,  I  will  ask  it,  most  peskily  sulky. 
You  might  have  got  it  before  you  axed  for  it,  said  I,  but 
not  afore  you  wanted  it,  you  may  depend  on  it.  But 
stop,  said  I,  let's  see  that  all's  right  afore  we  part ;  so  I 
counts  over  the  fifteen  pounds  I  won  of  him,  note  by  note, 
as  low  as  anything,  on  purpose  to  ryle  him,  then  I  mounts 
*  Old  Clay'  agin,  and  says  I,  Friend,  you  have  considerably 
the  advantage  of  me  this  hitch,  any  how.  Possible !  saya 
he,  how's  that?  Why,  says  I,  I  guess  you'll  return  rather 
lighter  than  you  came — and  that's  more  nor  I  can  say,  any 
how,  and  then  I  gave  him  a  wink  and  a  jupe  of  the  head, 
as  much  as  to  say,  *  do  you  take  V  and  rode  on  and  left 
him  starin  and  scratchin  his  head  like  a  feller  who's  lost  his 
road.  If  that  citizen  aint  a  born  fool,  or  too  far  gone  in 
the  disease,  depend  on't  he  found  *  a  cure  for  conceits*     n't 


:  \"?'^'-f  ;^f'«'-^ 


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THB  CLOCKMAKBU 

CHAPTER  XXIL 


■<ifc  fur^.u'- 


THE  BLOWIN  TIME. 


***■>  The  long  rambling  dissertation  on  conceit  to  which  I  ha 
just  listened,  from  the  Clockmaker,  forcibly  reminded  me 
of  the  celebrated  aphorism  ^gnothi  Beautont  know  thyself, 
which,  both  from  its  great  antiquity  and  wisdom,  has  been 
by  many  attributed  to  an  oracle. 

With  all  his  shrewdness  to  discover,  Eund  his  humour  to 
ridicule  the  foibles  of  others,  Mr.  Slick  was  blind  to  the  many 
defects  of  his  own  character ;  and  while  prescribing  *  a  cure 
for  conceit,'  exhibited  in  all  he  said,  and  all  he  did,  the  most 
overweening  conceit  himself.  He  never  spoke  of  his  own 
countrymen,  without  calling  them  the  *  most  free  and  en- 
lightened  citizens  on  the  face  of  the  airth,'  or  as  *  takin  the 
shine  off  of  all  creation.'  His  country  he  boasted  to  be 
the  *  best  atween  the  two  poles,'  *  the  greatest  glory  under 
heaven.'  The  Yankees  he  considered  (to  use  his  expres- 
sion) as  *  actilly  the  class-leaders  in  knowledge  among 
all  the  Americans,'  and  boasted  that  they  have  not  only 

*  gone  ahead  of  all  others,'  but  had  lately  arrived  at  that 
most  enviable  ne  plus  ultra  point  *■  goin  ahead  of  themselves.' 
In  short,  he  entertained  no  doubt  that  Slickville  was  tlie 
finest  place  in  the  greatest  nation  in  the  world,  and  the  Slick 
family  the  wisest  family  in  it. 

I  was  about  calling  his  attention  to  this  national  trait, 
when  I  saw  him  draw  his  reins  under  his  foot  (a  mode  of 
driving  peculiar  to  himself,  when  he  wished  to  economise 
the  time  that  would  otherwise  be  lost  by  an  unnecessary 
delay,)  and  taking  off  his  hat,  (which,  like  a  pedlar's  pack, 
contained  a  general  assortment,)  select  from  a  number  of 
loose  cigars  one  that  appeared  likely  *  to  go,'  as  he  called 
it.  Having  lighted  it  by  a  lucifer,  and  ascertained  that  it 
was  *  true  in  drafl,'  he  resumed  his  reins,  and  remarked 

*  This  must  be  an  everlastin  fine  country  beyond  all  doubt 
for  the  folks  have  nothin  to  do  but  to  ride  about  and  talk 
politics.     In  winter,  when  the  ground  is  covered  with  snow, 


w 

m 

I 


THB  BLOWIN   TOlI.  131 

what,  grand  times   they  have  a   slayin  over  these   here 
marshes  with  the  galls,  or  playin  ball  on  tV     le^  or  goin  to 

auiltin  frolfcs  of  nice  long  winter  evenings,  and  then  a 
rivin  home  like  mad  by  moonlight.  Natur  meant  thut 
season  on  purpose  for  courtin.  A  little  tidy  scrumptious 
looking  slay,  a  real  clipper  of  a  horse,  a  string  of  bells 
as  long  as  a  string  of  inions  round  his  neck,  and  a  sprig 
on  his  back,  lookin  for  all  the  world  like  a  bunch  of  apples 
broke  off  at  gatherin  time,  and  a  sweetheart  alongside,  all 
muffled  up  but  her  eyes  and  lips — the  one  lookin  right  into 
you,  and  the  other  talkin  right  at  you  —  is  e'en  amost 
enough  to  drive  one  ravin,  tarin,  distracted  mad  with  plea- 
sure, aint  it?  And  then  the  dear  critters  say  the  bells  make 
such  a  din,  there's  no  hearin  one's  self  speak ;  so  they  put 
their  pretty  little  mugs  close  up  to  your  face,  and  talk,  talk, 
talk,  till  one  can't  help  looking  right  at  them  instead  of  the 
horse,  and  then  whap  you  both  go  capsized  into  a  snow 
'  drill  together,  skins,  cushions,  and  all.  And  then  to  see 
the  little  critter  shake  herself  when  she  gets  up,  like  a 
duck  landin  from  a  pond,  a  chatterin  away  all  the  time  like 
a  Canary  bird,  and  you  a  haw>hawin  with  pleasure,  is  fun 
alive,  you  may  depend.  In  this  way  blue-nose  gets  led 
on  to  offer  himself  as  a  lovier,  afore  he  knows  where  he 

Decs* 

But  when  he  gets  married,  he  recovers  his  eyesight  in 
little  less  than  half  no  time.  He  soon  finds  he's  treed ; 
his  flint  is  fixed  then,  you  may  depend.  She  lams  him 
how  vinegar  is  made :  Put  plenty  of  sugar  into  the 
water  aforehand,,  my  dear^  says  shcj  if  you  want  to  make 
it  real  sharp.  The  larf  is  on  the  other  side  of  his  mouth 
then.  If  his  slay  gets  upsot,  it's  no  longer  a  funny  mat- 
ter, I  tell  you ;  he.  catches  it  right  and  left.  Her  eyes 
don't  look  right  up  to  hisn  any  more,  nor  her  little  tongue 
ring,  ring,  ring,  like  a  bell  any  longer,  but  a  great  big 
hood  covers  her  head,  and  a  whappin  great  muff  covers 
her  face,  and  she  looks  like  a  bag  of  soiled  clothes  agoin 
to  the  brook  to  be  washed.  When  they  get  out,  she  don't 
wait  any  more  for  him  to  walk  lock  and  lock  with  her 
but  they  march  like  a  horse  and  a  cow  to  water,  one  m 
each  gutter.  If  there  aint  a  transmogrification  it's  a  pity. 
The  difference  atween  a  wife  and  a  sweetheart  is  neai 
11 


.ti .. 


;  .J£,i. 


193 


THE   OLOOKMAUBR. 


about  aa  great  as  there  ia  between  new  and  hard  cide 
— a  man  never  tires  of  puttin  one  to  his  lip,  but  makes 
.plaguy  wry  faces  at  tother.  It  makes  me  so  kinder 
J:  wamblecropt  when  I  think  on  it,  that  Fm  afeared  to  ven* 
ture  on  matrimony  at  all.  I  have  seen  some  blue-no^s 
most  properly  bit,  you  may  depend.  You've  seen  a  boy 
a  slidin  on  a  most  beautiful  smooth  bit  of  ice,  ha*nt  you, 
larfin,  and  hoopin,  and  hallowin  like  one  possessed,  when 

Eresently  sowse  he  goes  in  over  head  and  ears?  How 
e  outs  fins,  and  flops  about,  and  blows  like  a  porpoise 
Eroperly  frightened,  don't  he  ?  and  when  he  gets  out  there 
e  stands,  all  shiverin  and  shakin,  and  the  water  a  squish- 
squashin  in  his  shoes,  and  his  trowsers  all  stickin  slimsey 
like  to  his  legs.  Well,  he  snoaks  off  home,  lookin  like  a 
fool,  and  thinkin  every  body  he  meets  is  a  larfin  at  him — 
many  folks  here  are  like  that  are  boy,  afore  they  have  been 
six  months  married.  They'd  be  proper  ^lad  to  get  out  of 
the  scrape  too,  and  sneak  off  if  they  could,  thars  a  fact. 
The  marriage  yoke  is  plaguy  apt  to  gall  the  neck,  as  the 
ash  bow  does  the  ox  in  rainy  weather,  unless  it  be  most 
particularly  well  fitted.  You've  seen  a  yoke  of  cattle  that 
warn't  properly  mated,  they  spend  more  strength  in  pullin 
agin  each  other,  than  in  pullin  the  load.  Mnell  that  s  apt 
to  be  the  case  with  them  as  choose  their  wives  in  sleighin 
parties,  quiltin  frolics,  and  po  on ;  instead  of  the^  dairies^ 
looms,  and  cheese-house.  ,  «v^\    ;  .>,    a-'^^^i^v 

Now  the  blue-noses  are  all  a  stirrin  in  winter.  The 
youn^  folks  drive  out  the  galls,  and  talk  love  and  all  sorts 
of  thmgs  as  sweet  as  dough-nuts.  The  old  folks  find  it 
near  about  as  well  to  leave  the  old  women  to  home,  for 
fear  they  shouldn't  keep  tune  together ;  so  they  drive  out 
alone  to  chat  about  House  of  Assembly  with  their  neigh- 
bours, while  the  boys  and  hired  h^lps  do  the  chores. 
When  the  Spring  comes,  and  the  fields  are  dry  enough  to^ 
be  sowed,  they  all  have  to  be  plowed,  cause  fall  rains 
wash  the  lands  too  much  for  fall  plovghin.  Well,  the 
plows  have  to  be  mended  and  sharpened,  cause  whafs  the 
use  of  doin  that  afore  ifs  wanted.  Well,  the  wheat  gets 
in  too  late,  and  then  comes  rust,  but  whose  fault  is  that  ? 
Why  the  climate  to  be  sure^  for  Nova  Scotia  aint  a  bread 
coujUry 


as 


anc 


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"1' 


4i: 


THS    BLOWIN    TIME. 


123 


When  a  man  has  to  run  ever  so  far  as  fast  as  he  can 
dip,  he  has  to  stop  and  take  hneath ;  you  must  do  that  or 
choke.  So  it  is  with  a  horse ;  run  him  a  mile,  and  his 
flanks  will  heave  like  a  blacksmith's  bellows ;  you  must 
slack  up  the  rein  and  give  him  a  little  wind,  or  he'll  fall 
right  down  with  you.  It  stands  to  reason,  don't  it  7  Atwixt 
spring  and  fall  work  is  *  Blowin  time.^  Then  Courts  como 
on,  and  Grand  Jury  business,  and  Militia  trainin,  and  Race 
trainin,  and  what  not ;  and  a  fine  spell  of  ridin  about  and 
doin  nothin,  a  real  *  Blowin  time."*  Then  comes  harvest, 
and  that  is  proper  hard  work,  mowin  and  pitchin  hay,  and 
reapin  and  bindin  grain,  and  potatoe  diggin.  That's  as 
hard  as  sole  leather,  afore  it's  hammered  on  the  lap  stone 
— it's  a  most  next  to  any  thing.  It  takes  a  feller  as  tough 
as  Old  Hickory  (General  Jackson)  to  stand  that 

Ohio  is  most  the  only  country  I  know  of  where  folks  are 
saved  that  trouble ;  and  there  the  freshets  come  jist  in  the 
nick  of  time  for  'em,  and  sweep  all  the  crops  right  up  in  a 
heap  for  'em,  and  they  have  nothin  to  do  but  take  it  home 
and  house  it,  and  sometimes  a  man  gets  more  than  his  own 
crop,  and  finds  a  proper  swad  of  it  already  piled  up,  only  a 
little  wet  or  so;  but  all  countries  aint  like  Ohio.  Well, 
arter  harvest  conies  fall,  and  then  there's  a  grand  *  blowin 
time'  till  spring.  Now,  how  the  Lord  the  blue-noses  can 
con^plain  of  their  country,  when  it's  only  one-third  work 
and  two-thirds  *  blowin  time,'  no  soul  can  tell.     •  ^i-  "^^f  ;5^>* 

Father  used  to  say,  when  I  lived  on  the  farm  along  with 
him, — Sam,  says  he,  I  vow  I  wish  there  was  jist  four  hun- 
dred days  in  the  year,  for  its  a  plaguy  sight  too  short  for 
me.  I  can  find  as  much  work  as  all  hands  on  us  can  do 
for  365  days,  and  jist  35  days  more,  if  we  had  'em.  We 
han't  got  a  minit  to  spare ;  you  must  shell  the  corn  and 
winner  the  grain  at  night,  clean  all  up  slick,  or  I  guess  we'll 
fall  astarn,  as  sure  as  the  Lord  made  Moses.  If  he  didn't 
keep  us  all  at  it,  a  drivin  away  full  chisel,  the  whole  blessed 
time,  it's  a  pity.  There  was  no  *  blowin  time'  there,  you  may 
depend.  We  plowed  all  the  fall  for  dear  life  ;  in  winter  we 
thrashed,  made  and  mended  tools,  went  to  market  and  mill, 
and  got  out  our  firewood  and  rails.  As  soon  as  frost  was 
gone,  came  sowin  and  plantin,  weedin  and  hoein — then  har- 
vest and  spreadin  compost — then  gatherin  manure,  fencin 


\ 


■^'^-i^v^M^j:^^:^^™^;^^*^^;^^^         ■ 


124 


THB   CLOOKMAKBll. 


I«> 


and  tlitchin — and  turn  tu  and  fall  plowin  agin.  It  all  went 
round  liko  a  wheel  without  stoppin,  and  so  last,  I  guesa  you 
couldn't  SCO  the  spokes,  just  one  long  evorlastin  stroke  from 
July  to  ctarnity,  without  time  to  look  back  on  the  tracks. 
luMtead  of  racin  over  the  country  like  a  young  doctor,  to 
show  how  busy  a  man  is  that  has  nothin  to  do,  as  blue-nose 
docs,  and  then  take  a  *  blowin  time,'  we  kept  a  rale  travellin 
ante,  an  clght-milc-an-hour  pace,  the  whole  year  round. 
^  rhey  buy  more  nor  they  scllj  and  eat  more  than  they  raiae, 
in  this  country.  What  a  pretty  way  that  is,  is'nt  it  1  If 
the  critters  knew  how  to  cypher,  they  would  soon  find  out 
that  a  sum  stated  that  way  always  eends  in  a  naught.  1 
never  knew  it  to  fail,  and  I  defy  any  soul  to  cypher  it  so, 
as  to  make  it  come  out  any  other  way,  either  by  School- 
master's Assistant  or  Algebra.  When  I  was  a  boy,  the 
Slickville  bank  broke,  and  an  awful  disorderment  it  made, 
that's  a  fact ;  nothin  else  was  talked  of.  Well,  I  studied  it 
over  a  long  time,  but  I  couldn't  make  it  out :  so  says  I, 
Father,  how  came  that  are  bank  to  break  ?  Warn't  it  well 
built  ?  I  thought  that  are  Quincy  granite  was  so  amazin 
strong  all  natUr  wouldn't  break  it.  Why  you  foolish  crit- 
ter, says  he,  it  tant  the  buildin  that's  broke,  its  the  consarn 
that's  smashed.  Well,  says  I,  I  know  folks  are  plaguilly 
consarned  about  it,  but  what  do  you  call  *  folks  smashin 
their  consarns?'  Father,  he  larfed  out  like  anything.;  I 
thought  he  never  would  stop— and  sister  Sail  got  right  up 
and  walked  out  of  the  ro(»n,  as  mad  as  a  hatter.  Says  she, 
Sam,  I  do  believe  you  are  a  born  fool,  I  vow.  When  Fa- 
ther had  done  larfin,  says  he,  I'll  tell  you,  Sam,  how  it  was. 
They  cyphered  it  so,  that  they  brought  out  nothin  for  a 
remainder.  Possible !  says  I ;  I  thought  there  was  no  eend 
to  their  puss.  I  thought  it  was  like  Uncle  Peleg's  musquash 
hole,  and  that  no  soul  could  ever  find  tl^  bottom  of.  My  I ! 
says  I.  Yes,  says  he,  that  are  bank  spent  and  lost  more 
money  than  it  made,  and  when  folks  do  that,  they  must 
smash  at  last,  if  their  puss  be  as  long  as  the  national  one 
of  Uncle  Sam.  This  Province  is  like  that  are  bank  of  ourn, 
it's  goin  the  same  road,  and  they'll  find  the  little  eend  of  the 
hern  afore  they  think  they  are  half  way  down  to  it. 

If  folks  would  only  give  over  talking  about  that  everlast- 
in  House  of  Assembly  and  Council »  and  see  to  their  farms. 


,£ 

'  ^  ' 


.  ,^f^..,^   ..t   ; 


THB   BLOWIH    TIME. 


12$ 


ist 


he 


h  would  be  better  for  *ein,  I  guess ;  for  arter  all,  what  is  it  7 
Why  it's  only  a  sort  of  first  chop  Grand  Jury,  and  nothin 
else.  It*8  no  more  like  Congress  or  Parliament  than  Marm 
Pugwash's  keepin  room  in  like  our  State  hall.  It's  jist 
nothin — Consress  makes  war  and  peace,  has  a  say  in  all 
treaties,  contarms  all  great  nominations  of  the  President, 
regilates  the  army  and  navy,  governs  twenty-four  inde- 
pendent States,  and  snaps  its  fingers  in  the  face  of  all  the 
nations  of  Europe,  as  much  as  to  say,  who  be  you  ?  I  allot 
I  am  as  big  as  you  be.  If  you  are  six  foot  high,  I  am  six 
foot  six  in  my  stockin  feet,  by  gum,  and  can  lambaste  any 
two  on  you  in  no  time.  The  British  can  whip  all  the  world, 
and  we  can  whip  the  British.  But  this  little  House  of  As* 
tiembly  that  folks  make  such  a  touss\ibout,  what  is  it? 
Why  jist  a  decent  Grand  Jury.  They  make  their  present- 
ments  of  littlo  money  votes,  to  mend  these  everlastin  rottin 
little  wooden  bridges,  to  throw  a  poultice  of  mud  once  a 
year  on  the  roads,  and  then  take  a  *  blowin  time*  of  three 
months  and  go  home.  The  littler  folks  be,  the  bigger  they 
talk.  You  never  9eed  a  small  man  that  did'nt  wear  high 
heel  boots,  and  a  high  crowned  hat,  and  that  warn't  ready 
to  fight  most  any  one,  to  show  that  he  was  a  man  every 
Uich  of  him. 

l^  I  met  a  member  the  other  day,  who  swaggered  near 
about  as  large  as  Uncle  Peleg.  He  looked  as  if  he  thought 
you  couldn't  find  hia  *  ditto'  any  where.  He  used  some 
most  particular  educational  words,  genuine  jaw-breakers. 
He  put  mie  in  mind  of  a  squirrel  I  once  shot  in  our  wood 
location.  The  little  critter  got  a  hickory  nut  in  his  mouth ; 
well,  he  found  it  too  hard  to  crack,  and  too  big  to  swaller, 
and  for  the  life  and  soul  of  him,  he  couldn't  spit  it  out  agin. 
If  he  didn't  look  like  a  proper  fool,  you  may  depend.  We 
had  a  pond  back  of  our  barn,  about  the  bigness  of  a  good 
sizeable  wash-tub,  and  it  was  chock  full  of  frogs.  Well, 
cne  of  these  little  critters  fancied  himself  a  bull-frog,  and 
he  pufled  out  his  cheeks,  and  took  a  rael  *  blowin  time'  of 
it;  he  roared  away  like  thunder;  at  last  he  puffed  and 
puffed  out  till  he  bust  like  a  byler.  If  I  see  the  Speaker 
this  winter,  (and  I  shall  see  him  to  a  sartainty  if  they  don't 
send  for  him  to  London,  to  teach  their  new  Speaker,)  and' 
he's  up  to  snuff,  that  are  man ;  he  knows  how  to  cypher— 


i^ 


11 


■^#\" 


j-.^-rf^- 


120 


THE  CLOCKHAKBR. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


•<.;. 


.  -  >•« 


I'll  jist  say  to  him,  Speaker,  says  I,  if  any  of  your  folks  in 
the  House  go  to  swell  out  like  dropsy,  give  em  a  hint  in 
time.     Says  you,  if  you  have  are  a  little  safety  valve  about 
you,  let  off  a  little  steam  now  and  then,  or  you'll  go  for  it 
recollect  the  Clockmaker's  story  of  the  *  Blowin  time.'     v ; 

^>  ',  4 »  >^f        FATgER  JOHN  O'SHAUGNESSY.    '  ^  * ;  '* 

To-MOSBOW  will  be  Sabbath  day,  said  the  Clockmaker, 
I  guess  we'll  bide  where  we  be  till  Monday.  I  like  a  Sab- 
bath in  the  country,  all  natur  seems  at  rest.  There's  a 
cheerfulness  in  the  day  here,  you  don't  find  in  towns. 
You  have  natur  before  you  here,  and  nothin  but  art  there 
The  deathy  stillness  of  a  town,  and  the  barred  windows 
and  shut  shops,  and  empty  streets,  and  great  long  lines  of 
big  brick  buiidins,  look  melancholy.  It  seems  as  if  life 
had  ceased  ticken,  but  there  hadn't  been  time  for  decay  to 
take  hold  on  there ;  as  if  day  had  broke,  but  man  slept.  I 
can't  describe  exactly  what  I  mean,  but  I  always  feel  kinder 
gloomy  and  whamblecropt  there.  ■  ^^''     '        '    ^ 

Now  in  the  country  it's  jist  what  it  ought  to  be — a  day 
of  rest  for  man  and  beast  from  labor.  When  a  man  rises 
on  the  Sabbath,  and  looks  out  on  the  sunny  fields  and 
wavin  crops,  his  heart  feels  proper  grateful,  and  he  says, 
come,  this  is  a  splendid  day,  aint  it  ?  let's  get  ready  and 
put  on  our  bettermost  close,  and  go  to  meetin.  His  first 
thought  is  prayerfully  to  render  thanks ;  and  then  when  he 
goes  to  worship  he  meets  all  his  neighbors,  and  he  knows 
them  all,  and  they  are  glad  to  see  each  other,  and  if  any 
two  on  'em  han't  gee'd  together  durin  the  week,  why  they 
meet  on  kind  of  neutral  ground,  and  the  minister  or  neigh 
bors  make  peace  atween  them.  But  it  tante  so  in  towns 
You  don't  know  no  one  you  meet  there.  It's  the  worship 
of  neighbors,  but  it's  the  worship  of  strangers,  too,  for 


■tlf:    ! 


r^V,- 


FATHER  JOHN  o'sHAUOHITESSr. 


12T 


neighbors  donU  know  nor  care  about  each  other.    Yes,  I 
love  a  Sabbath  in  the  country.   :^^:;iimm^,^':^ii^  H 

While  uttering  this  soliloquy,  he  took  up  a  pamphlet  from 
the  table,  and  turning  to  the  title-page,  said,  have  you  ever 
seen  this  here  book  on  the  *  Elder  Controversy,'  (a  contro- 
versy on  the  subject  of  Infant  Baptism.)     This  author's 
friends  say  it's  a  clincher ;  they  say  he  has  sealed  up  El- 
der's mouth  as  tight  as  a  bottle.     No,  said  I,  I  have  not ;  I 
have  heard  of  it,  but  never  read  it.    In  my  opinion  the  sub- 
ject has  been  exhausted  already,  and  admits  of  nothin  new 
bein  said  upon  it.     These  religious  controversies  are  a  se- 
rious injury  to  the  cause  of  true  religion ;  they  are  deeply 
deplored  by  the  good  and  moderate  men  of  all  parties.     It 
has  already  embraced  several  denominations  in  the  dispute 
m  this  Province,  and  I  hear  the  agitation  has  extended  to 
New  Brunswick,  where  it  will  doubtless  be  renewed  with 
equal  zeal.     I  am  told  all  the  pamphlets  are  exceptionable 
in  point  of  temper,  and  this  one  in  particular,  which  not 
only  ascribes  the  most  unworthy  motives  to  its  antagonist, 
but  contains  some  very  unjustifiable  and  gratuitous  attacks 
upon  other  sects  unconnected  with  the  dispute.    The  author 
has  injured  his  own  cause,  for  an  intemperate  advocate  is 
more  dangerous  than  an  open  foe.    There  is  no  doubt  on 
it,  said  the  Clockmaker,  it  is  as  clear  as  mud,  and  you  are 
not  the  only  one  that  thinks  so,  I  tell  you.      .-,i  - 

About  the  hottest  time  of  the  dispute,  I  Was  to  Halifax, 
and  who  should  I  meet  but  Father  John  O'Shaughnessy,  a 
'Catholic  Priest.  I  had  met  him  afore  in  Cape  Breton,  and 
had  sold  him  a  clock.  Well,  he  was  a  leggin  it  off  hot  foot. 
Possible,  says  I,  Father  John,  is  that  you — Why,  what  on 
airth  is  the  matter  of  you — what  makes  you  in  such  an 
everlastin  hurry,  drivin  away  like  one  ravin,  distracted 
mad  ?  A  sick  visit,  says  he ;  poor  Pat  Lanigan,  him  that 
you  mind  to  Bradore  Lake,  well  he's  near  about  at  the  pint 
of  death.  I  guess  not,  said  I,  for  I  jist  hear  tell  he  was 
dead.  Well,  that  brought  him  up  all  standin,  and  he  bouts 
ship  in  a  jiffy,  and  walks  a  little  way  with  me,  and  we 
got  a  talkin  about  this  very  subject.  Says  he,  What  are 
you,  Mr.  Slick  1  Well,  I  looks  up  to  him,  and  winks,  A 
Clockmaker,  says  I ;  well,  he  smiled,  and  says  he,  I  see  , 
A8  much  as  to  say  I  hadn't  ought  to  have  axed  that  are 


Ik 


\.\^  ■.%<■• 


•■  d.iOi'i'i-ii-f^ '  -'■  — 


'A'?" 


■  ^'X  ■: 


128 


.•^     THE  CLOCKMAKBIU  ^-^^"^ 


question  at  all,  I  guess,  for  every  man's  religion  is  his  own, 
und  nobody  else's  business.  Then,  says  he,  you  know  all 
about  this  country — who  does  folks  say  has  the  best  of  the 
dispute  ?  Says  I,  Father  John,  it's  like  the  battles  up  to 
Canada  lines  last  war,  each  side  claims  victory ;  I  gues* 
there  aint  much  to  brag  on  nary  way,  damage  done  on  both 
sides,  and  nothin  gained,  as  far  as  I  can  learn.  He  stopt 
short,  and  looked  me  in  the  face,  and  says  he,  Mr.  Slick, 
you  are  a  man  that  has  seed  a  good  deal  of  the  world,  and 
a  considerable  of  an  understandin  man,  and  I  guess  I  can 
talk  to  you.  Now,  says  he,  for  gracious  sake  do  jist  look 
here,  and  see  how  you  heretics  (Protestants  I  mean,  says 
he, — for  I  guess  that  are  word  slipt  out  without  leave,)  are 
by  the  ears,  a  drivin  away  at  each  other,  the  whole  blessed 
time,  tooth  and  nail,  hip  and  thigh,  hammer  and  tongs,  dis- 
putin,  revilin,  wranglin,  and  beloutin  each  other,  with  all 
sorts  of  ugly  names  that  they  can  lay  their  tongues  to.  Is 
that  the  way  you  love  your  neighbor  as  yourself;  We  say 
this  is  a  practical  comment  on  schism,  and  by  the  powers 
of  Moll  Kelly,  said  he,  but  they  all  ought  to  be  well  lam- 
basted together,' the  whole  batch  on  'em  entirely.  Says  I, 
Father  John,  give  me  your  hand  ;  there  are  some  thiags  I 
guess  you  and  I  don't  agree  on,  and  most  likely  never  will, 
seein  that  you  are  a  Popish  priest ;  but  in  that  idee  I  do 
opinionate  with  you,  and  I  wish,  with  all  my  heart,  all  the ' 
world  thought  with  us. 

I  guess  he  didn't  half  like  that  are  word  Popish  priest, ' 
it  seemed  to  grig  him  like ;  his  face  looked  kinder  ryled,' 
like  well  water  arter  a  heavy  rain ;   and   said   he,  Mr. 
Slick,  says  he,  your  country  is  a  free  country,  aint  it? 
The  freest,  says  I,  on  the  face  jf  the  airth — you  can't 
ditto'  it  nowhere.     We  are  as  free  as  the  air,  and  when 
our  dander's  up,  stronger  than  any  hurricane  you  ever 
see'd — tear  up  all  creation  most ;  there  aint  the  beat  of  it' 
to  be  found  anywhere.     Do  you  call  this  a  free  country  1 
said  he.     Pretty  considerable  middlin,  says  I,  seein   that 
they  are  under  a  king.     Well,  says  he,  if  you  were  seen ' 
m  Connecticut  a  shakin  hands  along  with  a  Popish  priest, 
as  you  are  pleased  to  call  me,  (and  he  made  me  a  bow,  as 
much  as  to  say,  mind  your  trumps  the  next  deal)  as  you 
now  are  in  the  streets  of  Halifax  along  with  me,  with  all 


'.,';.:"_Wj.'"<^i 


UTHER  JOHir   O'SHAUOHITESST. 


120 


your  crackin  and  boastin  of  your  freedom,  I  guess  you 
wouldn't  sell  a  clock  agin  in  that  State  for  one  while,  ] 
tell  you — and  he  bid  me  good  mornin  and  turned  away. 
Father  John !  says  I. — I  can't  stop,  says  he ;  I  must  see 
that  poor  critter's  family  ;  they  must  be  in  great  trouble, 
and  a  sick  visit  is  afore  controvarsy  in  my  creed.  Well, 
says  I,  one  word  with  you  afore  you  go ;  if  that  are  name 
Popish  priest  was  an  ongenteel  one,  I  ax  your  pardon  ;  ] 
di(hi't  mean  no  ofience,  I  do  assure  you,  and  I'll  say  this 
for  your  satisfaction,  tu,  you're  the  first  man  in  this  Pro- 
vince that  ever  gave  me  a  real  right  down  complete  check- 
mate since  I  first  sot  foot  in  it,  I'll  be  skinned  if  you  aint. 

Yes,  said  Mr.  Slick,  Father  John  Avas  right ;  these  an- 
tagonizing chaps  ought  to  be  well  quilted,  the  whole  raf\ 
of  'em.  It  fairly  makes  me  ^ick  to  sec  the  folks,  each  on 
'em  a  backin  up  of  their  own  man.  At  it  agin,  says  one ; 
fair  play,  says  another ;  stick  it  into  him,  says  a  third ; 
and  that's  your  sort,  says  a  fourth.  Theiii  are  the  folks 
who  do  mischief.  They  show  such  clear  grit  it  fairly 
frightens  me.  It  makes  my  hair  stand  right  up  an  eend 
to  see  ministerfi  do  that  are.  It  appears  to  me  thai  I  cot  Id 
torite  a  book  in  favour  of  myself  and  my  notions^  without 
writin  agin  any  one,  and  if  I  couldn't  I  wouldn't  write 
at  all,  I  snore.  Our  old  minister,  Mr.  Hopewell,  (a  real 
good  man,  and  a  lamed  man  too  that,)  they  sent  to  him 
once  to  write  agin  the  Unitarians  for  they  are  agoin  ahead 
like  statiee  in  New  England,  but  he  refused.  Said  he, 
Sam,  says  he,  when  I  first  went  to  Cambridge,  there  was 
a  boxer  and  wrastler  came  there,  and  he  beat  every  one 
wherever  he  went.  Well,  old  Mr.  Possit  was  the  Church 
of  England  parson  at  Charlestown,  at  the  time,  and  a  terri- 
ble powerful  man  he  was — a  rael  sneezer,  and  as  active  as 
a  weasel.  Well,  the  boxer  met  him  one  day,  a  little  way 
out  of  town,  a  takin  of  his  evenin  walk,  and  said  he.  Par- 
son, says  he,  they  say  you  are  a  most  plaguy  strong  man 
and  uncommon  stiff  too.  Now,  says  he,  I  never  see'd  a 
man  yet  that  was  a  match  for  me ;  would  you  have  any 
objection  jist  to  let  me  be  availed  of  your  strength  here  in 
a  friendly  way,  by  ourselves,  where  no  soul  would  be  the 
wiser ;  if  you  will  I'll  keep  dark  about  it,  I  swan.  Go 
your  way,  said  the  Parson,  and  tempt  me  not ;  you  are  a 


A- 


,f}i  ~""W<*~ 


Vi-Tft;  CT-^  '::'V7  '..■■'l  ■ 


130  '    THE  CLOCKMAKER.   '^''^ 

carnal  minded,  wicked  man,  and  I  tako  no  pleasure  in 
such  vain,  idle  sports.  Very  well,  said  the  boxer ;  now 
here  I  stand,  says  he,  in  the  path,  right  slap  afore  you ; 
if  you  pass  round  me,  then  I  take  it  as  a  sign  that  you  are 
afear'd  on  ipe,  and  if  you  keep  the  path,  why  then  you 
must  first  put  me  out — ^that's  a  fact.  The  Parson  jist  made 
a  spring  forrard  and  kitched  him  up  as  quick  as  wink,  and 
throwed  him  right  over  the  fence  whap  on  the  broad  of  his 
back,  and  then  walked  on  as  if  nothin  had  happened — 
as  demure  as  you  please,  and  lookin  as  meek  as  if  but- 
ter wouldn't  melt  in  his  mouth.  Stop,  said  the  boxer,  as 
soon  as  he  picked  himself  up,  stop  Parson,  said  he,  that's 
a  good  man,  and  jist  chuck  over  my  horse  too,  will  you, 
for  I  swan  I  believe  you  could  do  one  near  about  as  easy 
as  tother.  My !  said  he,  if  that  don't  bang  the  bush ; 
you  are  another  guess  chap  from  what  I  took  you  to  be, 
apy  how. 

V-,  Now,  said  Mr.  Hopewell,  says  he,  I  won't  write,  but  if 
are  a  Unitarian  crosses  my  path,  I'll  jist  over  the  fence 
with  him  in  no  time,  as  the  parson  did  the  boxer  ;^or 
writin  only  aggravates  your  opponents^  and  never  con- 
vinces  them,  I  never  see'd  a  convart  made  by  thai  vmy 
yet}  hut  VU  tell  you  v>hai  I  have  8ee*dy  a  man  set  his 
oion  jlock  a  doubtin  by  his  own  writin.  You  may  hap- 
pify  your  enemies,  cantankerate  your  opponents,  and  in- 
Jure  your  oton  cause  by  it,  but  I  defy  you  to  sarve  it. 
These  writers,  said  he,  put  me  in  mind  of  that  are  boxer's 
pupils.  He  would  sometimes  set  two  on  'em  to  spar ;  well, 
they'd  put  on  their  gloves,  and  begin,  larfin  and  jokin, 
all  in  good  humour.  Presently  one  on  'em  would  put  in  a 
pretty  hard  blow;  well,  tother  would  return  it  in  aimest. 
Oh,  says  the  other,  if  that's  your  play,  off  gloves  and  at  it; 
and  sui-e  enough,  away  would  fly  their  gloves,  and  at  it 
they'd  go  tooth  and  nail. 

No,  Sam,  the  misfortin  is,  we  are  all  apt  to  think 
Scriptur  intended  for  our  neighbors,  and  not  for  ourselves. 
The  poor  all  think  it  made  for  the  rich.  Look  at  that  are 
Dives,  they  say,  what  an  all  fired  scrape  he  got  into  by 
his  avarice,  with  Lazarus;  and  aint  it  writ  as  plain  as 
any  thing,  that  them  folks  will  find  it  as  easy  to  go  to 
heaven,  as  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle.. 


SI 


t'^sL 


*» 


} 


^i^msMMmm 


.^i« 


*  -.,*.t^  J\v 


,V,  C)       '      FATHER   JOHN    o'SHAUGWESSY. 


A-t.;  .j*iV'-'-*» 


131 


Well,  then,  the  rich  think  it  all  made  for  the  poor — that 
they  sharnt  steal  nor  bear  false  witness,  but  shall  be  obe- 
dient to  them  that^s  in  authority.  And  as  for  them  are 
Unitarians,  and  he  always  got  his  dander  up  when  he 
spoke  of  them,  why  there's  no  doin  nothin  with  them, 
says  he.  When  they  get  fairly  stumped,  and  you  pro- 
duce a  text  that  they  can't  get  over,  nor  get  round,  why 
they  say  it  tante  in  our  version  at  all — ^that's  an  interpola- 
tion, it's  an  invention  of  them  are  everlastin  monks; 
there's  nothin  left  for  you  to  do  with  them,  but  to  sarve 
them  as  Parson  Possit  detailed  the  boxer — ^lay  right  hold 
of  'em  and  chuck  'em  over  the  fence,  even  if  they  were 
as  big  as  all  out  doors.  That's  whnt  our  folks  ought  to 
have  done  with  'em  at  first,  pitched  'em  clean  -out  of  the 
state,  and  let  'em  go  down  to  Nova  Scotia,  or  some  such 
outlandish  place,  for  thsy  aint  fit  to  live  in  no  Christian 
country  at  all. 

Fightin  is  no  way  to  make  convarts ;  the  true  voay  is  to 
win  ^em.  You  may  stop  a  man's  mouth,  Sam,  says  he, 
by  a  crammin  a  book  down  his  throat,  but  you  wont  con- 
vince him.  It's  a  fine  thing  to  write  a  book  all  covered 
over  with  Latin,  and  Greek,  and  Hebrew,  like  a  bridle 
that's  real  jam,  all  spangled  with  brass  nails,  but  who 
knows  whether  it's  right  or  wrong?  Why  not  one  in  ten 
thousand.  If  I  had  my  religion  to  choose,  and  wam't  able 
to  judge  for  myself,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'd  do:  I'd  jist  ask 
myself  tpho  leads  the  best  lives?  Now,  says  he,  Sam, 
I  won't  say  who  do,  because  it  would  look  like  vanity  to 
say  it  was  the  folks  who  hold  to  our  platform,  but  I'll  teli 
you  who  don't.  It  aint  them  that  makes  the  greatest  pro- 
fessions always ;  and  mind  what  I  tell  you,  Sam,  when 
you  go  a  tradin  with  your  clocks  away  down  east  to  Nova 
Scotia,  and  them  wild  provinces,  keep  a  bright  look  out  on 
them  as  cant  too  much,  for  a  long  face  is  plaguy  apt  to 
cover  a  long  conscience — that's  a  fact. 


1*  f 


>!.•'■'". 


Ki'  . 


-,< 


-  ■■  A 


:.^  h' 


r-:-l# 


.:,^. 


.;f'.V.Xji44LriV- 


XT- 


ct-z-t^  r-:-,:a^  ^^ 


132  THB  CLOOKMAKER. 

^^^,  i!^r-;(&*W'£>^r';;,  CHAPTER  XXV.   ■^•r'-':.  i;^;.^ 

i^|;%i^F'%  ^'    TAMING  A  SHREW.      i^'':r;a:^if^^ 

The  road  from  Amherst  to  Parrsboro'  is  tedious  ana 
uninteresting.  In  places  it  is  made  so  straight,  that  you 
can  see  several  miles  of  it  before  you,  which  produces  an 
appearance  of  interminable  length,  while  the  stunted  growth 
of  the  spruce  and  birch  trees  bespeaks  a  cold,  thin  soil, 
and  invests  the  scene  with  a  melancholy  and  sterile  aspect. 
Here  and  there  occurs  a  little  valley,  with  its  meandering 
stream,  and  verdant  and  fertile  intervale,  which  though 
possessing  nothing  peculiar  to  distinguish  it  from  many 
others  of  the  same  kind,  strikes  the  traveller  as  superior  to 
them  all,  from  the  contrast  to  the  surrounding  country. 
One  of  these  secluded  spots  attracted  my  attention,  from 
the  number  ^nd  neatness  of  the  buildings  which  its  pro« 
prietor,  a  tanner  and  currier,  had  erected  for  the  purposes 
of  his  trade.  Mr.  Slick  said,  he  knew  him,  and  he  guessed 
it  was  a  pity  he  couldn't  keep  his  wife  in  as  good  order  as 
he  did  his  factory.  They  don't  hitch  their  horses  together 
well  at  all.  He  is  properly  henpecked,  said  he;  he  is 
afeerd  to  call  his  soul  his  own,  and  he  leads  the  life  of  a 
dog ;  you  never  seed  the  beat  of  it,  I  vow.  Did  you  ever 
see  a  rooster  hatch  a  brood  of  chickens  ?  No,  said  I,  not 
that  I  can  recollect.  Well,  then  I  have,  said  he,  and  if  he 
don't  look  like  a  fool  all  the  time  he  is  settin  on  the  eggs, 
its  a  pity ;  no  soul  could  help  larfin  to  see  him.  Our  old 
nigger,  January  Snow,  had  a  spite  agin  one  of  father's 
roosters,  seein  that  he  was  a  coward,  and  wouldn't  fight. 
He  used  to  call  him  Dearborne,  arter  our  General  that 
behaved  so  ugly  to  Canada :  and  says  he  one  day,  I  guess 
you  are  no  better  than  a  hen,  you  everlasting  old  chicken- 
hearted  villain,  and  I'll  make  you  a  larfin  stock  to  all  the 
poultry.  I'll  put  a  trick  on  you  you'll  bear  in  mind  all 
your  born  days.  So  he  catches  old  Dearborne,  and  pulls 
ail  tue  featheis  off  his  breast,  and  strips  him  as  naked  as 
when  he  vas  uorn,  from  his  throat  clean  down  to  his  tail, 


R''^'.v.-. 


TAMIWQ   ▲   SHREW. 


133 


and  then  takes  a  bundle  of  nettles  and  gives  him  a  proper 
switchin  that  stung  him,  and  made  him  smart  like  mad ; 
then  he  warms  some  eggs  and  puts  them  in  a  nest,  and  sets 
the  old  cock  right  a  top  of  'em.  Well,  the  warmth  of  the 
eggs  felt  good  to  the  poor  critter's  naked  belly,  and  kinder 
kept  the  itchin  of  the  nettles  down,  and  he  was  glad  to  bide 
where  he  was,  and  whenever  he  was  tired  and  got  off,  his 
skin  felt  so  cold,  he'd  run  right  back  and  squat  down  agin, 
and  when  his  feathers  began  to  grow,  and  he  got  obstrop- 
olous,  he  got  another  ticklin  with  the  nettles,  that  made  him 
return  double  quick  to  his  location.  In  a  little  time  he  larnt 
the  trade  real  complete.  ^jjn  k;*?;  '.n-iiuil-^  1 

Now,  this  John  Porter,  (and  there  he  is  on  the  bridge  I 
vow,  I  L  ver  seed  the  beat  o'  that,  speak  of  old  Saytin  and 
he's  sure  to  appear ;)  well,  he's  jist  like  old  Dearborne,  only 
fit  to  hatch  eggs.  When  he  came  to  the  bridge,  Mr.  Slick 
stopped  his  horse,  to  shake  hands  with  Porter,  whom  he 
recognized  as  an  old  acquaintance  and  customer.  He  en- 
quired.afler  a  bark  mill  he  had  smuggled  from  the  States* 
for  him,  and  enlarged  on  the  value  of  such  a  machine,  and 
the  cleverness  of  his  countrymen  who  invented  such  useful 
and  profitable  articles ,  and  was  recommending  a  new  pro- 
cess of  tanning,  when  a  female  voice  from  the  house  was 
heard,  vociferating,  ♦  John  Porter,  come  here  this  minute.' 
*  Coming,  my  dear,'  said  the  husband.  *  Come  here,  I  say, 
directly,  why  do  you  stand  talking  to  that  yankee  villain 
there  ?'  The  poor  husband  hung  his  head,  looked  silly,  and 
bidding  us  good  bye,  returned  slowly  to  the  house.  As  we 
drove  on,  Mr.  Slick  said,  that  was  me — I  did  that.  Did 
what?  said  I.  That  was  me  that  sent  him  back,  I  called 
him  and  not  his  wife.  I  had  that  are  bestowment  ever 
since  I  was  knee  high  or  so ;  I'm  a  rael  complete  hand  at 
Ventriloquism  ;  I  can  take  off  any  man's  voice  I  ever  heard 
to  the  very  nines.  If  there  was  a  law  agin  forgin  that,  as 
there  is  for  handwritin,  I  guess  I  should  have  been  hanged 
long  ago.  I've  had  high  goes  with  it  many  a  time,  but  its 
plaguy  dangersome,  and  I  dont  practise  it  now  but  seldom. 

I  had  a  real  bout  with  that  are  citizen's  wife  once,  and 
completely  broke  her  in  for  him':  she  went  as  gentle  as  a 
circus  horse  for  a  space,  but  he  let  her  have  her  head  agin, 
and  she's  as  bad  as  ever  now.     I'll  tell  you  how  'i  was.    - 


^ 


12 


.Aiiv.  V  'iS.-..,**!";    4>i.-^ ^'.-I.ftui.-'ii 


134 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


i(    I  was  down  to  the  Island  a  sellin  clocks,  and  who  should 
I  meet  but  John  Porter ;  well,  I  traded  with  him  for  one 
part  cash,  part  truck,  and  produce^  and  also  put  off  on  him 
that  are  bark  mill  you  heerd  me  axin  about,  and  it   .vas 
pretty  considerable  on  in  the  evenin  afore  we  finished  our 
trade.     I  came  home  along  with  him,  and  had  the  clock  in 
the  Wdggon  to  fi  k  it  up  for  hiin,  and  to  show  him  how  to 
regilatc  it.     Well,  as  we  neared  the  house,  he  began  to  fret 
and  take  on  droadiiil  oneasy  ;  says  he,  I  hope  Jane  wont  be 
abed,  cause  if  she  is  she'll  act  ugly,  I  do  syppose.     I  had 
heerd  tell  of  her  afore ;  how  she  used  to  carry  a  stiff  upper 
lip,   and  make   him  and  the   broomstick  well    acquainted 
together ;  and,  says  I,  why  do  you  put  up  with  her   tan- 
trums, I'd  make  a  fair  division  of  the  house  with  her,  if  it 
was  me,  I'd  take  the  inside  and  allocate  her  the  outside  of  it 
pretty  quick,  that's  a  fact.     Well,  when  we  came  to  the 
house,  there  was  no  light  in  it,  and  the  poor  critter  looked 
so  streaked  and  down  in  the  mouth,  I  felt  proper  sorry  for 
him.     When  he  rapped  at  the  door,  she  called  outf  Who's 
there  ?  It's  me,  dear,  says  Porter.    You,  is  it,  said  she,  then 
you  may  stay  where  you  be,  them  as  gave  you  your  supper, 
may   give  you  your  'led,  instead   of  seudin  you  sneakin 
home  at  night  like  a  thief.     Said  I,  in  a  whisper,  says  I, 
Leave  her  to  me,  John  Porter — ;jist  take  the  horses  up  to 
the  barn,  and  see  arter  them,  and  I'll  manage  her  for  you, 
I'll  make  her  as  sweet  as  sugary  candy,  never  fear.     The 
barn  you  see  is  a  good  piece  off  the  eastward  of  the  house ; 
and  as  soon  as  he  was  cleverly  out  of  hearin,  says  I,  a 
imitatin  of  his  voice  to  the  life.  Do  let  me  in,  Jane,  says  I, 
that's  a  dear  critter,  I've  brought  you  home  some  thkigs 
you'll  like,  I  know.  Well,  she  was  an  awful  jealous  critter ; 
says  she.  Take  em  to  her  you  spent  the  evenin  with,  I  don't 
want  you  nor  your  presents  neither.     Arter  a  good  deal  of 
coaxin  I  stood  on  the  tother  tack,  and  began  to  tlireaten  to 
break  the  door  down ;  says  I,  You  old  unhansum  lookin 
sinner,  you  vinerger  cruet  you,  open  the  door  this  minit  or 
I'll  smash  it  right  in.     That  grigged  her  properly,  it  made 
her  very  wrathy  (for  nothin  sets  up  a  woman's  spunk  like 
callin  her  ugly,  she  gets  her  back  right  up  like  a  cat  when 
a  strange  dog  comes  near  her ;  she's  all  eyes,  claws  and 
bristles). 


■V_i.,a^i-tf.\  '■   "I*^V  -.^d^Ul 


"V.' 


TAMING   A    SHREW. 


135 


> 
a 


to 


la 


I  hcerd  her  bounce  right  out  of  bed,  and  she  came  to  the 
door  as  she  was,  ondressed,  and  onbolted  it;  and  as  I  en- 
tered it,  sho  fetched  me  a  box  right  across  my  cheek  with 
the  flat  of  her  hand,  that  made  it  tingle  agin.     I'll  teach 
you  to  call  naTies  agin,  says  she,  you  varmint.    It  was  jist 
what  I  wnn.ea ;  I  pushed  the  door  tu  with  my  foot,  and 
seizin  her  by  the  arm  with  one  hand,  1  quilted  her  with  the 
horsewhip   real   handsum   with   the  other.     At  first   sht 
roared   like  mad ;   I'll   give  you  the  ten  commandments, 
says  she  (meaning  her  ten  claws),  I'll  pay  you  for  this,  you 
cowardly  villain,  to  strike  a  wortian.     How  dare  you  lifl 
your  hand,  John  Porter,  to  your  lawful  wife,  and  so  on ; 
all  the  time  runnin  round  and  round,  like  a  colt  that's  a 
breakin,  with  the  mouthin  bit,  rarein,  kickin,  and  plungin 
like   statiee.     Then   she  began   to  give   in.     Says    she, 
I   beg  pardon,   on  my  knees   I   beg  pardon — don't  mur- 
der me,  for  Heaven's  sake — don't  dear  John,  don't  murder 
your  poor  wife,  that's  a  dear,  I'll  do  as  you  bid  me,  I  pro- 
mise to  behave  well,  upon  my  honour  I  do— oh  1  dear  JohO) 
do  forgive  me,  do  dear.     When  I  had  her  properly  brought 
too,  for  havin  nothin  on  but  a  thin  under  garmerit  every 
crack  of  the  whip  told  like  a  notch  on  a  baker's  tally ;  says 
i,  take  that  as  a  taste  of  what  you'll  catch,  when  you  act 
that  way  like  old  Scratch.     Now  go  and  dress  yourself, 
and  get  supper  for  me  and  a  stranger  I  have  brought  home 
along  with  me,  and  be  quick,  for  I  vow  I'll  be  master  in 
my  own  house.     She  moaned  like  a  dog  hit  with  a  stone, 
half  whine,  half  yelp ;  dear,  dear,  says  she,  if  I  aint  all 
covered  over  with  welts  as  big  as  my  finger,  I  do  believe 
I'm  flayed  alive ;  and  she  boohood  right  out  like  any  thing. 
I  guess,  said  I,  you've  got  'em  where  folks  wont  see  'em, 
any  how,  and  I  calculate  you  won't  be  over  forrard  to  show 
'em  where  they  be.     But  come,  says  I,  be  a  stirrin,  or  I'll 
quilt  you  agin  as  sure  as  you're  alive — I'll  tan  your  hide 
for  you,  you   may   depend,   jou   old   ungainly  tempered 
heifer  you. 

When  I  went  to  the  barn,  says  I,  John  Porter,  your  wife 
made  right  at  me,  like  one  ravin  distracted  mad,  when  I 
opened  the  door,  thinking  it  was  you  ;  and  I  was  obliged  to 
give  her  a  crack  or  two  of  the  cowskin  to  get  clear  of  her. 
It  has  effectuated  a  cure  completely  ;  now  Toller  it  up,  and 


=**' 


l*u    i.-  —'./K'i.^'i^U'A'i 


R    f 


■      7 


136 


THE  CLOGKMAKBR. 


don't  let  on  Cot  your  li(b  it  wurn't  you  that  did  it,  and 
you'll  be  master  once  more  in  your  own  house.  She's  all 
docity  jist  now,  keep  her  so.  As  wo  returned  we  saw  a 
light  in  the  keepin  room,  the  fire  was  bluzin  up  cheerful- 
some,  and  Marm  Porter  moved  about  as  brisk  as  a  parchec^ 
pea,  though  as  silent  as  dumb,  and  our  supper  was  ready 
in  no  time.  As  soon  as  she  took  her  seat  and  sot  down, 
she  Hprung  right  up  on  eend,  as  if  she  sot  on  a  pan  of  hot 
coals,  and  coloured  all  over ;  and  then  tears  started  in  her 
eyes.  Thinks  I  to  myself,  I  calculate  I  wrote  that  are 
lesson  in  Iqrge  letters  any  how,  I  lead  that  writin  without 
spellin,  and  no  mistake;  I  guess  you've  got  pretty  well 
warmed  thereabouts  this  hitcn.  Then  she  tried  it  again, 
first  she  sot  on  one  leg,  then  on  the  tother,  quite  oneasy, 
and  then  right  atwixt  both,  a  fidgettin  about  dreadfully ; 
like  a  man  that's  rode  all  day  on  a  bad  saddle,  and  lost  a 
little  leather  on  the  way.  If  you  had  seed  how  she  stared 
at  Porter,  it  would  have  made  you  snicker.  She  could'nt 
credit  her  eyes.  He  wam't  drunk,  and  he  wam't  crazy, 
but  there  he  sot  as  peeked  and  as  meechin  as  you  please. 
She  seemed  all  struck  up  of  a  heap  at  his  rebellion.  The 
next  day  when  I  was  about  startin,  I  advised  him  to  act 
like  a  man,  and  keep  the  weather  gage  now  he  had  it,  and. 
all  would  be  well ;  but  the  poor  critter  only  held  on  a  day 
or  two,  she  soon  got  the  upper  hand  of  him,  and  made  him 
confess  all,  and  by  all  accounts  he  leads  a  worse  life  now 
than  ever.  I  put  that  are  trick  on  him  jist  to  try  him,  and 
I  see  its  gone  goose  with  him ;  the  jig  is  up  with  him,  she'll 
soon  call  him  with  a  whistle  like  a  dog.  I  often  think  of 
the  hornpipe  she  danced  there  in  the  dark  along  with  me  to 
the  music  of  my  whip — she  touched  it  off  in  great  style, 
that's  a  fact.  I  shall  mind  that  go  one  while,  I  promise' 
you.  It  was  actilly  equal  to  a  play  at  old  Bowry.  You 
may  depend,  Squire,  the  only  way  to  tame  a  shrew  is  by 
the  cowskin.  Grandfather  Slick  was  raised  all  along  the' 
coast  of  Kent  in  old  England,  and  he  used  to  say  there  was 
an  old  saying' there,  which,  I  expect,  is  not  far  off  the 
mark ; 

'A  woman,  a  dog,  and  a  walnut  tree, 
The  more  you  lick  'em  the  better  they  be.' 


rU^:' 


•^-y 


'..-^■^.^■tff-.'X'i 


THE   MIlflSTBR  S  HORN   MUQ. 


187 


n-.t 


.*t^ 


iiT,^^»Mi  ,■  W-.A  CHAPTER  XXVI.«-^^'^;'^^'-*v^lf^ 

«*/?>.  < " ....  >        THE  MrNISTER'S  HORN  MUO.      '' ' ^''^  *  <^  ?^* 

»•  This  country,  said  Mr.  Slick,  abounds  in  superior  mill 
privileges,  and  one  would  natcrally  calculate  that  such  a 
sight  of  water  power  would  have  led  to  a  knowledge  of 
machinery.  I  guess  if  a  b!ue-nose  was  to  go  to  one  of  our 
free  and  enlightened  citizens,  and  tell  him  Nova  Scotia  wa^ 
intersected  with  rivers  and  brooks  in  all  directions,  and 
nearly  one  quarter  of  it  covered  with  water,  he'd  say,  well 
I'll  start  right  off  and  see  it,  I  vow,  for  I  guess  I'll  lam 
somethin.  I  allot  I'll  get  another  wrinkle  away  down  east- 
there.  With  such  splendid  chances  for  experimentin,  what 
first-chop  mills  they  must  have,  to  a  sartainty.  I'll  see 
cuch  new  combinations,  and  such  new  applications  of  the' 
force  of  water  to  motion,  that  I'll  make  my  fortin,  for  we 
can  improve  on  any  thing  amost.  Well,  he'd  find  his  mis- 
take out,  I  guess,  as  I  did  once,  when  I  took  passage  in  the 
night  at  New  York  for  Providence,  and  found  myself  the 
next  mornin  clean  out  to  sea,  steerin  away  for  Cape  Hatte- 
ras,  in  the  Charleston  steamer.  He'd  find  he'd  gone  to  the 
wrong  place,  I  reckon;  there  aint  a  mill  of  any  kind  in  the 
province  fit  to  be  seen.  If  we  had  'em,  we'd  sarve  'em  as 
we  do  the  gamblin  houses  down  south,  pull  'em  right 
down,  there  wouldn't  be  one  on  'em  left  in  eight  and  forty 
hours. 

'Some  domestic  factories  they  ought  to  have  here :  it's  an 
essential  part  of  the  social  system.  Now  we've  run  to  the 
other  extreme,  its  got  to  be  too  big  an  interest  with  us,  and 
aint  suited  to  the  political  institutions  of  our  great  country. 
Natur  designed  us  for  an  agricultural  people,  and  our 
government  was  predicated  on  the  supposition  that  we 
would  be  so.  Mr.  Hopewell  was  of  the  same  opinion. 
He  was  a  great  hand  at  gardenin,  orchardin,  farmin,  and 
what  not.  One  evenin  I  was  up  to  his  house,  and  says  he, 
Sam,  what  do  you  say  to  a  bottle  of  my  old  genuine  cider, 
1  guess  I  got  some  that  will  take  the  shine  off  your  falhei's 
12* 


I 


;t    V 


f  ^ 


-  j*if;  "jlX-Jki*^L--i; 


138 


THE   CLOCKHAKUR*  '^i/^ 


by  n  Ion,«(  rhnlk,  much  as  tho  old  grtitlomnn  brngs  of  hin^n  > 
— I  never  brin;^  it  out  nforo  him.  Ho  thinks  ho  has  the 
b<>Ht  in  uli  Connocticut.  It's  nn  inmx^ent  an.liition  that ;  und 
Sam,  it  wouhl  be  but  a  poor  thing  fur  mo  to  gratify  my 
pride,  at  tho  cxp<>nso  of  humblin  hiH*n.  So  I  nover  lotH  on 
that  I  havo  any  bettor,  but  koop  dark  about  this  NU|MTfino 
particular  nrlicio  of  mine,  for  IM  as  Hvoh  ho'd  think  so  as 
not.  Ho  was  a  real  primitive  good  man  was  minister.  I 
got  some,  said  he,  that  was  bottlt^d  that  very  year  that  glo-> 
rioua  action  was  fought  atwecn  the  Constitution  and  the 
Guorrinro.  Perhaps  the  wholo  world  couldn't  show  such 
a  brilliant  whippin  as  that  was.  it  was  a  splendid  deod, 
that's  a  fact.  The  British  can  whip  tho  whole  airth,  and 
wo  can  whip  tho  British.  It  was  a  bright  promise  for  ourr 
young  eagle,  a  noble  bird  that,  too ;  great  strength,  great 
courage,  and  surpassing  sagacity. 

Well,  ho  went  down  to  the  cellar,  and  brought  up  a  hot* 
tie,  with  a  stick  tied  to  its  neck,  and  day  and  date  to  it, 
like  the  lye-bills  on  the  trees  in  Squire  Hendrick's  garden. 
I  like  to  see  them  are  cobwebs,  says  he,  as  he  brushed 
*em  ofT,  t)\cy  hre  like  grey  hairs  in  an  old  man's  head, 
they  indicate  venerable  old  age.  As  he  uncorked  it,  says 
ho,  I  guess,  Sam,  this  will  warm  your  gizzard,  my  boy ;  I 
guess  our  great  nation  may  be  stumped  to  produce  more 
eleganter  liquor  than  this  here.  It's  the  dandy,  that's  a 
fact.  That,  said  ho,  a  smackin  his  lips,  and  lookin  at  its 
sparklin  top,  and  layin  back  his  head,  and  tippin  off  a  horn 
mug  brim  full  of  it — that  said  he— and  his  eyes  twinkled 
agin,  for  it  was  plaguy  strong — that  is  the  produce  of  my 
own  orchard.  Well,  I  said,  minister,  says  I,  I  never  see 
you  a  swiggin  it  out  of  that  are  horn  mug,  that  I  don't 
think  of  one  of  your  texts.  What*8  that,  Sam  ?  says  he 
— for  you  olways  had  a  most  a  special  memory  when  you 
was  a  boy  ;  why,  says  I,  '  that  the  horn  of  the  righteous 
man  shall  be  exalted,*  i  guess  that's  what  they  mean  by 
•exalten  the  horn,'  aint  it  ?  Lord,  if  ever  you  was  to  New 
Meensy  and  seed  a  black  thunder  cloud  rise  right  up  and 
•Yjver  the  whole  sky  in  a  minit,  you'd  a  thought  of  it  if  you 
had  seed  his  fact-.  It  looked  as  dark  as  Egypt.  For  shame, 
says  he,  Sam,  that's  ondecent;  and  let  me  tell  you  that  a 
man  that  jokes  on  such  subjects,  shows  both  a  lack  of  wit 


;»-,,': 


•^^ 


T'lfrw 


^ 


Tim    Ml{flBT£R  S   HOnif    MUO. 


130 


and  srnso  too.  I  like  mirth,  you  know  I  do,  for  it's  only 
tho  I'hnriKocN  and  hypocrites  (hat  wear  long  facos,  hut  thou 
mirth  numt  ho  inno«!cnt  to  please  me;  and  when  I  M(;e  a 
mun  make  merry  with  scrioutt  things,  1  sot  him  down  as  a 
lost  8he<^p.  That  comes  of  your  speculation  to  Lowell ; 
and,  I  vow,  them  factorin  towns  will  corrupt  our  youth  of 
both  sexes,  and  hc<'>omo  hotbeds  of  iniquity.  Evil  comniu 
nica.ions  endamnify  good  nunners,  as  sure  as  rates;  oim 
scabby  sheep  will  infect  a  whole  flock— vice  is  as  catchin 
as  that  nasty  disease  the  Scotch  have,  its  got  by  slmkin 
hands,  and  lx)th  ecnd  in  the  same  way — in  brimstone.  I 
approbate  domestic  factories,  but  nothin  further  for  us.  It 
don't  suit  us  or  our  institutions.  A  republic  is  only  calcu- 
lated for  an  enlightened  and  vartuous  people,  and  folks 
chiefly  in  the  furmin  line.  That  is  an  innocent  and  a  happy 
vocation.  Agriculture  was  oixlained  by  Him  as  made  us, 
for  our  chief  occupation.      <N?  &»»*' ..!«'j«»»ti(  Jji   c^^ii**y.t(  ;*«Jj**t 

Thinks  I,  heres  a  pretty  how  do  you  do;  I'm  in  for 
it  now,  that's  a  fact ;  he'll  jist  fall  to  and  read  a  regular 
sarmon,  and  he  knows  so  many  by  heart  he'll  never  stop. 
It  would  take  a  Philadelphia  lawyer  to  answer  him.  So, 
says  I,  Minister,  I  ax  your  pardon,  I  feel  very  ugly  at  havin 
ffiven  you  oifence,  but  I  didn't  mean  it,  I  do  assure  you. 
ft  jist  popt  out  unexpectedly,  like  a  cork  out  of  one  of  them 
are  cider  bottles.  I'll  do  my  possibles  that  the  like  don't 
happen  agin,  you  may  depend ;  so  'spose  we  drink  a  glass 
to  our  .coiiciliation.  That  I  will,  said  he,  and  we  will 
hav(.<  another  bottle  too,  but  1  must  put  a  little  water  into 
my  flass^  (and  he  dwelt  on  that  word,  and  looked  at  me 
qui^  feelin,  as  much  as  to  say,  don't  for  goodness  sake 
make  use  of  that  are  word  horn  agin,  for  its  a  joke  I  don't 
like,)  for  my  head  hante  quite  the  strength  my  cider  has. 
Taste  this,  Sam,  said  he,  (openin  of  another  bottle,)  its  of 
the  same  age  as  the  last,  but  made  of  different  apples,  and 
I  am  fairly  stumped  sometimes  to  say  which  is  best.         .;>i 

These  are  the  pleasures,  suys  he,  of  a  country  life.  A 
man's  own  labor  provides  him  with  food,  and  an  appetite  to 
enjoy  it.  Let  him  look  which  way  he  will,  and  he  sees  the 
goodness  and  bounty  of  his  Creator,  in  his  wisdom,  his 
power,  and  his  majesty.  There  never  was  anything  so, 
true,  as  that  are  old  sayin,  *  man  made  the  town,  but  God. 


140 


.V^^^^^THK  OLOOKVAKtSlt. 


* 


made  the  country,*  and  both  bespeak  their  diflerent  archi- 
tects in  terms  too  plain  to  be  misunderstood.  The  one  is 
filled  with  virtue  and  the  other  with  vice.  One  is  the  abode 
of  plenty,  and  the  other  of  want;  one  is  a  ware-duck  of. 
nice  pure  water— and  tother  one  a  cess-pool.  Our  tow^s 
afe  gettin  so  commercial  and  factoring,  that  they  will  soon 
generate  mobs,  Sam,  (how  true  that  are  has  turned  out, 
haint  it  1  He  could  see  near  about  as  far  into  a  mili-stone 
as  them  that  picks  the  hole  irto  it,)  and  mobs  will  introduce 
disobedience  and  defiance  to  laws,  and  that  must  eend  in 
anarchy  and  bloodshed.  No,  said  the  old  man,  raising  his 
voice,  and  giving  the  table  a  wipe  with  his  fist  that  made 
the  glasses  all  jingle  agin,  give  me  the  country  ;  that  coun- 
try to  which  he  that  made  it  said,  **  Bring  forth  grass,  the 
herb  yieldin  seed,  and  the  tree  yieldin  fruit,"  and  who  saw 
U  thai  it  wa8  good.  Let  me  jine  with  the  feathered  tribe 
in  the  mornin,  (I  hope  you  get  up  airly  now,  Sam ;  when 
you  was  a  boy  there  was  no  gittin  you  out  of  bed  at  no 
rate,)  and  at  sun-set,  in  the  hymns  which  they  utter  in  full 
tide  of  song  to  their  Creator.  Let  me  pour  out  the  thank-, 
fulness  of  my'  heart  to  the  Giver  of  all  good  things,  for  the 
numeroL  3  blessings  I  enjoy,  and  intreat  him  to  bless  my  in- 
crease, that  I  may  have  wherewithal  to  relieve  the  wantal 
of  others,  as  he  prevents  and  relieves  mine.    No  I  give  me 

the  country.    Its Minister  was  jist  like  a  horse 

that  has  the  spavin ;  he  sot  off  considerable  stiff  at  first, 
but  when  he  once  got  under  way,  he  got  on  like  a  house  a 
fire.    He  went  like  the  wind  full  split. 

He  was  jus  beginnin  to  warm  on  the  subject,  and  I  knew, 
if  he  did,  what  wonderful  bottom  he  had ;  how  he  would 
hang  on  for  ever  amost ;  so  says  I,  I  think  so  too  minister^ 
I  like  the  country,  I  always  sleep  better  there  than  in  towns ; 
it  tante  so  plaguy  hot,  nor  so  noisy  neither,  and  then  it's  a 
pleasant  thing  to  set  out  on  the  stoop  and  smoke  in  the  cool, 
aint  it?  I  think,  says  I,  too.  Minister,  that  are  uncommon, 
handsum  cider  of  yourn  desarves  a  pipe,  what  do  you  think? 
Well,  says  he,  I  think  myself  a  pipe  wouldn't  be  amiss,  and. 
I  got  some  rael  good  Varginy,  as  you  een  amost  ever  seed,  a 
present  from  Rowland  Randolph,  an  old  college  chum ;  and 
none  the  worse  to  my  palate,  Sam,  for  bringin  by-gone 
recollections  with  it.     PhoBbe,  my  dear,  said  he,  to  his  dai  ; 


,  — _  ^vXvv  ^ 


.  U'c_'^i~'^it!>«^>i.'lk?^. 


^ ■)■■■-» , 


-^-'ffc'-^'  ■;"•*;"• 


THE   MINISTER  8  HORN    MUO. 


141 


tcr,  bring  the  pipes  and  tobacco.  As  soon  as  the  old  gen- 
tleman fairly  got  a  pipe  in  his  mouthy  I  give  Phcebc  a  wink, 
as  much  as  to  say,  warnt  that  well  done.  That's  what  i 
call  a  most  particular  handsum  fix.  He  can  talk  now, 
(and  that  /  do  like  to  hear  him  do,)  but  he  can't  make  a 
speech,  or  preach  a  sarmon,  and  that  /  don't  like  to  hear 
him  do,  except  on  Sabbath  day,  or  up  to  Town  Hail,  on 

oration  times. -f^^v' '*-'*"'■  ^f^  '^i^W'^  :^-  ■■t>'*«c*^•fea»-'s?o,./».«*^^t"^^•*^s^-*^l 

Minister  was  an  onocMnrao-a  pleasuit  !nan,  (tor  f^ie 
was  nothin  amost  he  didn't  know,)  except  when  he  got  his 
dander  up,  and  then  he  did  spin  out  his  yams  for  ever- 
lastinly.      ■',!■.  V'Afi-'.'-»'jii^(,^,<lir'*r'*5  ¥^Ui)  -nf  •i-r'ii^-^^i%'-k{i''ri- 

But  I'm  of  his  opinion.  If  the  folks  here  want  their 
country  to  go  ahead,  they  must  honour  the  plough,  and 
General  Campbell  ought  to  hammer  that  are  into  their  nod- 
dles, full  chisel,  as  hard  as  he  can  drive.  I  could  lam 
him  somethin,  I  guess,  about  hammerin  he  aint  up  to.  It 
tante  every  one  that  knows  how  to  beat  a  thing  into  a 
man's  head.  How  could  I  have  sold  so  many  thousand 
<;locks,  if  I  hadn't  had  that  nack.  Why,  I  wouldn't  have 
soW  half  a  dozen,  you  may  depend.    4i»'2ii$«'  A%  ta'«»*'?:s^^^ 

Agriculture  is  not  only  neglected  but  degraded  here. 
What  a  number  of  young  folks  there  seem  to  be  in  these 
parts,  a  ridin  about,  titivated  out  real  jam,  in  their  goto- 
meetin  clothes,  a  doin  nothin.  It's  melancholy  to  think  on 
it.  That's  the  effect  of  the  last  war.  The  idleness  and 
extravagance  of  those  times  took  root,  and  bore  fruit  abun- 
dantly, and  now  the  young  people  are  above  their  business. 
They  are  too  high  in  the  mstep,  that's  a  fact. 

Old  Drivvle,  down  here  to  Maccan,  said  to  me  one  day, 
lor  gracious  sake,  says  he,  Mr.  Slick,  do  tell  me  what  I 
shall  do  with  Johnny.  His  mother  sets  great  store  by 
him,  and  thinks  h!°t's  the  makins  of  a  considerable  smart 
man — he's  growin  up  fest  now,  and  I  am  pretty  well  to 
do  in  the  world,  and  reasonable  forehanded,  but  I  dont 
know  what  the  dogs  to  put  him  to.  The  Lawyers  are 
like  spiders,  they've  eat  up  all  the  flies,  and  I  guess  they'll 
have  to  eat  each  other  soon,  for  there's  more  on  'em  than 
causes  now  every  court.  The  Doctors'  trade  is  a  poor 
one,  too,  they  don't  get  barely  cash  enough  to  pay  for 
their  medicines;   I  never  seed  a  country  practitioner  yet, 


"r- 


\ 


'ij'.;'VT*V(;-; 


■  ^p-r 


k^ 


**M>THB   CLOGKMAKBR. 


IV 


that  made  any  thing  worth  speakin  of.  Then,  as  for 
preachin,  why  church  and  dissenters  are  pretty  much 
tarred  with  the  same  stick,  they  live  in  the  same  pastur 
with  their  flocks ;  and,  between  'em,  it's  fed  down  pretty 
close  I  tell  you.  What  would  you  advise  me  to  do  with 
him  ?  Well,  says  I,  I'll  tell  you  if  you  won't  be  miffy 
with  me.  Miffy  with  you  indeed,  said  he,  I  guess 
I'll  be  very  much  obliged  to  you ;  it  tante  every  day  one 
gets  a  chance  to  consult  with  a  person  of  your  experience 
— I  count  it  quite  a  privilege  to  have  the  opinion  of  such 
an  understandin  man  as  you  be.  Well,  says  I,  take  a 
stick  and  give  him  a  rael  good  quiltin,  jist  tantune  him 
like  blazes,  and  set  him  to  work. — What  does  the  critter 
want  ?  you  have  a  good  farm  for  him,  let  him  go  and  aim 
his  bread ;  and  when  he  can  raise  that,  let  him  get  a  wife 
to  make  butter  for  it ;  and  when  he  has  more  of  both  than 
he  wants,  let  him  sell  'em  and  lay  up  his  money,  and  he 
will  soon  have  his  bread  buttered  on  both  sides — put  him 
to,  eh !  why  put  him  to  the  Plough,  the  moat  nateraly 
the  most  happif,  the  most  innocent,  and  the  most  healthy  - 
employment  in  the  world.  But,  said  the  old  man  (and 
he  did  not  look  over  half  pleased)  markets  are  so  con-^ 
founded  dull,  labour  so  high,  and  the  banks  and  great  folks 
p.  swallerin  all  up  so,  there  don't  seem  much  encourage- 
ment for  farmers,  its  hard  rubbin,  no\Y-a-days,  to  live  by 
the  plough — he'll  be  a  hard  workin  poor  man  all  his  days. 
Oh !  says  T,  if  he  wants  to  get  rich  by  farmin,  he  can  do 
that  too.  Let  him  sell  his  wheat,  and  eat  his  oatmeal 
and  rye ;  send  his  beef,  mutton,  and  poultry  to  market, 
and  eat  his  pork  and  potatoes,  make  his  own  cloth,  weave 
his  own  linen,  and  keep  out  of  shops,  and  he'll  soon  grow 
rich — there  are  more  ibrtins  got  by  savin  than  by  makin,  I 
guess,  a  plaguy  sight — he  cant  eat  his  cake  and  have  it  too, 
that's  a  fact.  No,  muke  a  farmer  of  him,  and  yov.  will 
have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  an  honest,  an  indepen- 
dent,  a.id  a  respectable  member  of  society — more  honest 
than  traders,  more  independent  than  professional  men,  and 
more  respectable  than  either.  » 

Ahem  !  says  Marm  Drivvle,  and  she  began  to  clear  her 
throat  for  action ;  she  slumped  down  her  nittin,  and  clawed 
off  her  spectacles,  and  looked  right  straight  at  me,  so  aa  to 


THE   WHITE   NIGGER. 


h43 


take  good  aim.  I  seed  a  regular  norwcster  a  brum|  T  knev 
it  would  bust  somewhere  sartan,  and  make  all  smoke  agin, 
so  I  cleared  out  and  led  old  Drivvle  to  stand  the  squall. 
I  conceit  he  must  have  had  a  tempestical  time  of  it,  for  she 
had  got  her  Ebenezer  up,  and  looked  like  a  proper  sneezer 
Make  her  Johnny  a  farmer,  eh  ?  I  guess  that  was  too  much 
for  the  like  o'  her  to  stomach. 

•  Pridej  Squire,  continued  the  Clockmaker,  (with  such 
an  air  of  concern,  that,  I  verily  believe,  the  man  feels  an 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  a  Province,  in  which  he  has  spent 
so  long  a  time,)  Pride,  Squire,  and  a  false  pride,  too, 
is  the  ruin  of  this  country,  I  hope  I  man  be  skimied.  if  it 


^  W :■>^^^>!i^'^t^;M^r 


if^    'UVV-.  -*■;*-'  ■'   f 


'.■a 


*JL4i'U.N. 


CHAPTER  XXVU. 

THE  WHITE  NIGGER. 


.iir" 


One  of  the  most  amiable,  and  at  the  same  time  most 
amusing  traits,  in  the  Clockmaker's  character,  was  the 
attachment  and  kindness  with  which  he  regarded  his  horse. 
He  considered  '  Old  Clay*  as  far  above  a  Provincial  horse, 
as  he  did  one  of  his  *  free  and  enlightened  citizens'  superior 
to  a  blue-nose.  He  treated  him  as  a  travelling  companion, 
and  when  conversation  flagged  between  us,  would  often 
soliloquis  to  him,  a  habit  contracted  from  pursuing  his 
journeys  ^ne.  Well  now,  he  would  say, '  Old  Clay,'  I 
guess  you  took  your  time  agoin  up  that  are  hill — s'pose  we 
progress  now.  Go  along,  you  old  sculpin,  and  turn  out 
your  toes.  I  reckon  you  are  as  deft*  as  a  shad,  do  you  hear 
there  ♦  go  ahead,  Old  Clay.'  There  now,  he'd  say.  Squire, 
aint  that  dreadful  pretty  ?  There's  action.  That  looks 
about  right—legs  all  under  him — gathers  all  up  snug — no 
bobbin  of  his  head — ^no  rollin  of  his  shoulders — no  wabblin 
of  his  hind  parts,  but  steady  as  a  pump  bolt,  and  the  motion 
all  underneath.  When  he  fairly  lays  himself  to  it,  he  trots 
like  all  vengeance.  Then  look  at  his  ears,  jist  like  rabbits, 
none  o'  your  flop  ears  like  them  Amherst  beasts,  half  horses, 


¥^ 


..\(t 


'  "  iW   ;■."».■  i  u»i*"  ..'..;i  i.i' '.    ■4l  ^. 


1..^    j1^t/:.-.'>^;li'*.J 


>:f'' 


lU 


THE  CLOCKWAKEB. 


?*' 


\  half  pigs,  but  strait  up  and  pineted,  and  not  too  near  at 

,  the  tips ;  for  that  are,  I  concait,  always  shows  a  horse 
liiut  true  to  draw.     There  are  o/dy  two  things,  Squire, 

iteofth  lookin  at  in  a  hone,  action  and  soundness,  for  I 
never  saw  a  crit^r  that  had  good  action  that  was  a  bad 

1  beast.    Old  Clay  puts  me  in  mind  of  one  of  our  free  and 

enlightened . 

Excuse  me,  said  I,  Mr.  Slick,  but  really  you  appropriate 
that  word  *  free*  to  your  countrymen,  as  if  you  thought  no 
other  people  in  the  world  were  entitled  to  it  but  yourselves. 

.  Neither  they  be,  said  he.     We  first  sot  the  example.   Look 

;at  our  declaration  of  independence.  It  was  writ  by  Jeffer- 
son, and  he  was  the  first  man  of  the  age,  perhaps  the  world 
never  seed  his  ditto.  It's  a  beautiful  piece  of  penmanship 
that,  he  gave  the  British  the  butt  eend  of  his  mind  there. 
I  calculate  you  couldn't  fait  it  in  no  particular,  it's  generally 
allowed  to  be  his  cap  shief.  In  the  first  page  of  it,  second 
section,  and  first  varse,  are  these  words,  *We  hold  this 
truth  to  be  self-evident,  that  all  men  are  created  equal.'  I 
guess  King  George  turned  his  quid  when  he  read  that.  It 
was  somethin  to  chaw  on,  he  hadn't  been  used  to  the  flavor 

jof,  I  reckon. 

Jefferson  forgot  to  insert  one  little  word,  said  I,  he  should 
'  .have  said,  *  all  white  men ;'  for  as  it  now  stands,  it  is  a 
practical  untruth,  in  a  country  which  tolerates  domestic 
slavery  in  its  v/orst  and  most  forbidding  form.  It  is  a  decla- 
ration of  shame,  and  not  of  independence.  It  is  as  psrfect 
a  misnomer  as  ever  I  knew.  Well,  said  he,  1  must  admit 
there  is  a  screw  loose  somewhere  thereabouts,  and  I  wish  it 

.would  convene  to  Congress  to  do  somethin  or  another  about 
our  niggers,  but  I  am  not  quite  certified  how  that  is  to  be  sot 
to  rights — I  concait  that  you  don't  understand  us.  But, 
said  he,  (evading  the  subject  with  his  usual  dexterity,)  we 
deal  only  in  niggers,  —  and  those  thick  skulled,  crooked 
shanked,  flat  footed,  long  heeled,  woolly  headed  gentlemen, 
don't  seem  fit  for  much  else  but  slavery,  1  do  suppose ;  they 
aint  fit  to  contrive  for  themselves.  They  are  just  like  grass- 
hoppers ;  they  dance  and  sing  all  summer,  and  when  winter 
comes  they  have  nothin  provided  for  it,  and  lay  down  and 
die.  They  require  some  one  to  see  arter  them.  Now,  we  deal 
in  black  niggers  only,  but  the  blue-noses  sell  their  own 


_:i4;i;^.,l:,-i..- 


V.' 


L-i-.iVV: 


^^S;""*!/"-' 


Tm  wmTB  NICIOpi. 


145 


ries-—tbey  trade  in  white  slaves.  Thank  GocI,  said  I, 
ery  does  not  exist  in  any  part  of  his  Majesty^s  domi- 
nions now,  we  have  at  la&t  wiped  off  that  national  stain. 
Not  quite,  I  guess,  said  he,  with  an  air  of  triumph,  it  tauto 
done  with  in  Nova  Scotia,  for  I  have  .see'd  these  human 
cattle  sales  with  my  own  eyes — I  was  availed  of  the  truth 
of  it  up  here  to  old  Furlong's,  last  November.  I'll  tell  you 
the  story,  said  he ;  and  as  this  story  of  the  Clockmaker's 
contained  some  extraordinary  statements  which  I  had  never 
heard  of  before,  I  noted  it  in  my  journal,  for  the  purpose  of 
ascertaining  their  truth ;  and,  if  founded  on  fact,  of  laying 
them  before  the  proper  authorities. 

Last  fall,  said  he,  I  was  on  my  way  to  Partridge  Island, 
to  ship  off  some  truck  and  produce  I  had  taken  in,  in  the 
way  of  trade ;  and  as  I  ueared  old  Furlong's  house,  I  see'd 
an  amazin  crowd  of  folks  about  the  door  ;  I  said  to  myself 
9ays  I,  who'^s  dead,  and  what's  to  pay  now — what  on  airth 
is  tho  meanin  of  all  thi^?  Is  it  a  vandew,  or  a  weddini  or  a 
roiin  frolic,  or  a  religious  stir,  or  what  is  it  ?  Thinks  I,  I'll 
see — so  I  hitches  old  Clay  to  the  fence,  and  walks  in.  It 
was  sometime  afore  I  was  able  to  s  wiggle  my  way  thro'  the 
crowd,  and  get  into  the  house.  And  when  I  did,  who  should 
I  see  but  Deocon  Westfall,  ft  smooth  faced,  slick  hcired, 
meechin  lookin  chap  as  you'd  see  in  a  hundred,  a  standin 
on  a  stool,  with  an  auctioneer's  hammer  in  hi?  hand ;  and 
afore  him  was  one  Jerry.  Oaks  and  his  wife,  and  two  little 
orphan  children^  the  prettiest  little  toads  I  ever  beheld  in  all 
my  born  days.  Gentlernen,  Bmd  he,  I  will  begin  the  sale 
by  putting  up  Jerry  Oaks,  of  Apple  River,  he's  a  consider- 
able of  a  smart  man  yet,  and  can  do  many  little  chores 
besides  feedin  the  children  and  pigs,  I  guess  he's  near  about 
worth  his  keep.  Will  you  warrant  him  sound,  wind  and 
limb  ?  says  a  tall,  ragged  lookin  countryman,  for  he  looks 
to  me  as  if  he  was  foundered  in  both  feet,  and  had  a  string 
halt  into  the  bargain.  When  you  are  as  old  as  I  be,  says 
Jerry,  mayhap  you  may  be  foundered  too,  young  man ;  I 
have  seen  the  day  when  you  wouldn't  dare  to  pass  that  jok<» 
on  me,  big  as  you  be.  Will  any  gentleman  bid  for  him, 
says  the  deacon,  he's  cheap  at  7*.  6d,  Why  deacon,  said 
Jerry,  why  surely  your  honor  isn't  agoin  for  to  sell  me 
separate  from  mv  ooor  old  wifej  are  you  ?  Fifty  vears  have 
13  '  * 


m.^- 


.  1  ■■!i{'A';:^"-vJ.*fc-  *!»>j 


<.-4k,di&4|J» :,    M3l«2 


■^ 


146 


THE  CLOCKHAKdU 


we  lived  together  as  man  and  wife,  and  a  cood  wife  has  she 
been  to  me,  through  all  my  troubles  and  trials,  and  God 
knows  I  have  had     ough  of  'em.     No  one  knows  my  ways 
and  ailments  but  her,  and  who  can  tend  me  ho  kind,  or  w^o 
will  bear  "with  the  complaints  of  a  poor  old  man  but  his 
wife.     Do,  Deacon,  and  Heaven  bless  you  for  it,  and  yours, 
do  sell  us  together ;  we  have  but  a  few  days  to  live  now, 
death  will  divide  us  soon  enough.     Leave  her  to  close  my 
old  eyes,  when  the  struggle  comes  ;  and  when  it  comes  to 
you,  deacon,  as  come  it  must  to  all,  may  this  good  deed  rise 
up  for  you,  as  a  memorial  before  God.     I   wish  it  had 
pleased  him  to  have  taken  us  afore  it  came  to  this,  but  his 
will  be  done ;  and  he  hung  his  liead,  as  if  he  felt  he  had 
drained  the  cup  of  degradation  to  its  dregs.     Can't  afford 
it,  Jerry — can't  afford  it,  old  man,  said  the  deacon  (with 
such  a  smile  as  a  November  sun  gives,  a  passin  atween 
clouds.)     Last  year  they  took  oats  for  rates,  now  nothin 
but  wheat  will  go  down,  and  that's  as  good  as  cash,  and 
you'll  hang  on,  as  most  of  you  do,  yet  these  many  years. 
There's  old  Jpe  Crowe,  I  believe  in  my  conscience  he  will 
live  for  ever.     The  bidden  then  went  on,  and  he  was  sold 
for  six  shillings  a  week.     Well,  the  poor  critter  gave  one 
long,  loud,  deep  groan,  and  -then  folded  his  arms  over  his 
breast,  so  tight  that  he  seemed  tryin  to  keep  in  his  breast 
from  bustin.  I  pitied  the  misfortunate  wretch  from  my  soul, 
]  don't  know  as  I  ever  felt  so  streaked  afore.     Not  so  his 
wife,  she  was  all  tongue.     She  begged,  and  prayed,  and 
cryed,  and  scolded,  and  talked  at  the  very  tip  eend  of  her 
voice,  till  she  became,  poor  critter,  exhausted,  and  went  off 
in  a  faintin  fit,  and  they  ketched  her  up  and  carried  her  oiit 
to  the  air)  and  she  was  sold  in  that  condition. 

Well  f  couldn't  make  head  or  tail  of  all  this,  I  could 
hardly  believe  my  own  eyes  and  ears  ;  so  says  I  to  John 
Porter,  (him  that  has  that  catamount  of  a  wife,  that  I  had 
such  a  touss  with,)  John  Porter,  says  I,  who  ever  see'd  or 
heer'd  tell  of  the  like  of  this,  what  under  the  sun  does  it  all 
mean  ?  What  has  that  are  critter  done  that  he  should  be 
sold  arter  that  fashion  ?  Done,  said  he,  why  nothin,  and 
that's  the  reason  they  sell  him.  This  is  town-meeting  day, 
and  we  always  sell  the  poor  for  the  year,  to  the  lowest  bid- 
der.   Them  that  will  keep  them  for  the  lowest  sum,  gets 


^ 


THE   WHITE   NIOOCR* 


147 


or 

all 

be 

tnd 


them.  Why,  says  I,  that  feller  that  bought  him  is  a  pau- 
per himself,  to  my  sartin  knowledge.  If  you  were  to  take 
him  up  by  the  heels  and  shake  him  for  a  week,  you  couhhi't 
shake  sixpence  out  of  him.  How  can  he  keep  him  1  it  ap- 
pears  to  me  the  poor  buy  the  poor  here,  and  that  they  all 
starve  together.  Says  I,  there  was  a  very  good  man  once 
lived  to  Liverpool,  so  good,  he  said  he  hadn't  sinned  for 
seven  years :  well,  he  put  a  mill-dam  across  the  river,  and 
stopt  all  the  iish  from  goin  up,  and  the  court  fmed  him  fifly 
pounds  for  it,  and  this  good  man  was  so  wrathy,  he  thought 
he  should  feel  better  to  swear  a  little,  but  conscience  told 
him  it  was  wicked.  So  he  compounded  with  conscience, 
nnd  cheated  the  devil,  by  calling  it  a  *  dam  fine  business.' 
Now,  Friend  Porter,  if  this  is  your  poor-law,  it  is  a  damn 
poor  law,  I  tell  you,  and  no  good  can  come  o^  such  hard- 
hearted doins.  It's  no  wonder  your  country  don't  prosper, 
for  who  ever  heer'd  of  a  blessin  on  such  carryins  on  as 
this  ?  Says  I,  Did  you  ever  hear  tell  of  a  sartin  rich  man, 
that  had  a  beggar  called  Lazarus  laid  at  his  gate,  and  how 
the  dogs  had  more  compassion  than  he  had,  and  came  and 
licked  his  sores  1  cause  if  you  have,  look  at  that  forehanded 
and  sponsible  man  there.  Deacon  VVestfall,  and  you  see  the 
rich  man.  And  then  look  at  that  arc  pauper,  dragged  away 
in  tliat  ox-cart  from  his  wife  for  ever,  like  a  fellen,  to  States' 
Prison,  and  you  see  Lazarus.  Recollect  what  follered, 
John  Porter,  and  have  neither  art  nor  part  in  it,  as  you  are 
a  Christian  man.  ?;*>  W-?^:vjf  •; 

\  It  iairly  made  me  sick  all  day.  John  Porter  follered  me 
out  pf  the  house,  and  as  I  was  a  turnin  Old  Clay,  said  he, 
Mr.  Slick,  says  he,  I  never  see'd  it  in  that  are  light  afore, 
for  its  our  custom,  and  custom,  you  know,  will  reconcile 
one  to  most  anything.  I  must  say,  it  does  appear,  as  you 
lay  it  out,  an  unfeeiin  way  of  providin  for  the  poor ;  but, 
as  touchin  the  matter  of  dividin  man  and  wife,  why,  (and 
he  peered  all  round  to  see  that  no  one  was  within  hearin,) 
why,  I  don't  know,  but  if  it  was  my  allotment  to  be  sold, 
I'd  as  lives  they'd  sell  me  separate  from  Jane  as  not,  for  it 
appears  to  me  it's  about  tlie  best  part  o^  it. 

Now,  what  I  have  told  you  Squire,  said  the  Clockmaker, 
is  the  truth ;  and  if  members,  instead  of  their  everlastin 
politics,  would  only  look  into  these  matters  a  little,  I  guess 


s  ■ 


'#?■•!«•' 


148 


THE  CWCEMJ^Xtm^ 


it  would  be  far  better  for  the  country.  So,  for  onr  decla< 
ration  of  independence,  I  guess  you  neednH  twitt  me  with 
our  sluve-sales,  for  we  deal  only  in  blacks ;  but  blue*nose 
approbates  no  distinction  in  colours,  and  when  reduced  to 

poverty,  is  reduced  to  slavery,  and  is  sold a  WkiUt 

Nigger, 


V' 

•  *^-ir^  • ".:  liw^^  "^  .*■  •  ^  '^Vt  •  '^  V 

->■;. ;'^, '.•;'«'  ,«'  *-?     ^:;*t*'- 

h 

f. 

'.         '.  ■.                       .  .  i '     -V  ■       '   ■  - ' 

—   ^    :■■,?!    .    .>._   vj-^Aj" 

f=v 

■  ■^■^.■.il;               ...:-.:  V.i-v-.    ■  ■••.. 

■•  >•  Jf  ■>'">"»'r-,^vff 

'f^^lJ'  CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

''!::••:  j-^^-'-:-\ 

t'        •'    FIRE  IN  THE  DAIRY. 

~.'> 


As  we  approached  within  fifleen  or  twenty  miles  of 
Parrsboro*,  a  sudden  turn  of  the  road  brought  us  directly 
in  rront  of  a  large  wooden  house,  consisting  of  two  stories 
and  an  immense  roof,  the  height  of  which  edifice  was  much 
increased  by  a  stone  foundation,  rising  several  feet  above 
ground.  Now,  did  you  ever  see,  said  Mr.  Slick,  such  9 
catamaran  as  that ;  there's  a  proper  goney  for  yon,  for  to 
go  and  raise  such  a  buildin  as  that  are,  and  he  as  much  use 
for  it,  I  do  suppose,  as  my  old  waggon  here  has  for  a  fiflh 
wheel.  Blue-nose  always  take  keer  to  have  a  big  house, 
cause  it  shows  a  big  man,  and  one  that's  considerable  fore- 
handed, and  pretty  well  to  do  in  the  world.  These  Nova 
Scotians  turn  up  their  blue-noses,  as  a  bottle  nose  porpoise 
turns  up  his  snout,  and  puff  and  snort  exactly  like  him  at  a 
small  house.  If  neighbor  Carrit  has  a  two  story  house  all 
filled  with  winders,  like  Sandy  Hook  lighthouse,  neighbor 
Parsnip  must  add  jist  two  feet  more  on  to  the  post  of  hisn, 
and  about  as  much  more  to  the  rafler,  to  go  a  head  of  him ;' 
so  all  these  long  sarce  gentlemen  strive  who  can  get  the 
furdest  in  the  sky,  a'vr.y  from  their  farms.  In  New  Eng- 
land our  maxim  is  a  small  house,  and  a  most  an  everlastin 
almighty  big  barn ;  but  these  critters  revarse  it,  they  have 
little  hovels  for  their  cattle,  about  the  bigness  of  a  good 
sizeable  bear  trap,  and  a  house  for  the  humans  as  grand  as 
Noah's  Ark.  Well,  jist  look  at  it  and  see  what  a  figur  it 
does  cut.  An  old  hat  stuffed  into  one  pane  of  glass,  and  nn 
old  flannel  petticoat,  as  yaller  as  jaundice,  in  another,  finish 


f.  .  I-.St^M-^-,  ,*  . 


FmS   IN    TBI   DAIRY. 


149 


'K,'-:H- 


.I-yt'   '^-rt'S 


r  oar  decla- 
ntt  me  with 
lit  blue*iM>se 
reduced  to 
—HI  Wkit$ 


■  ;;»*$«T  I-' 

y  miles  of 

us  directly 

two  stories 

i  was  much 

feet  above 

ick,  such  a 

yon,  for  to 

s  much  use 

» for  a  fifth 

big  house, 

irable  fbre- 

hese  Nova 

e  porpoise 

:e  him  at  a 

house  all 

S  neighbor 

5t  of  hisn,' 

id  of  him ; 

m  get  the 

STew  Eijg. 

everlastin' 

they  have 

i>f  a  good 

grand  as 

a  figur  it 

ts,  and  an 

ler,  finish 


off  tho  front ;  an  old  pair  of  breeches,  and  the  pad  of  a 
bran  new  cart-iaddle  worn  out,  titivate  he  eend,  while  the 
backside  is  all  closed  up  on  account  of  the  wind.  When  it 
rains,  if  there  aint  a  pretty  how-do-you-do,  it's  a  pity — beds 
toated  out  of  this  room  and  tubs  set  in  tother  to  catch  soft 
water  to  wash ;  while  the  clapboards,  loose  at  the  eends,  go 
clap,  clap,  clap,  like  galls  a  hacklin  flax,  and  the  winders 
and  doors  keep  a  dancm  to  the  music.  The  only  dry  place 
in  the  house  is  in  the  chimbley  corner,  where  the  folks  all 
huddle  up,  as  an  old  hen  and  her  chickens  do  under  a  cart 
of  a  wet  day.  I  wish  I  had  the  matter  of  a  half  a  dozen 
pound  of  nails,  (you'll  hear  the  old  gentleman  in  the  grand 
house  say,)  I'll  be  darned  if  I  don  t,  for  if  I  had  Id  fix 
them  are  clapboards,  I  guess  they'll  go  for  it  some  o'  these 
days.  I  wish  you  had,  his  wife  would  say,  for  they  do 
make  a  most  particular  unhansum  clatter,  that's  a  fact ;  and 
60  they  let  it  bo  till  the  next  tempestical  time  comes,  and 
then  they  wish  agin.  Now  this  grand  house  has  only  two 
rooms  down  stairs,  that  are  altogether  slicked  up  and 
finished  off  complete,  the  other  is  jist  petitioned  ofT  rough 
like,  one  half  great  dark  entries,  and  tother  half  places  that 
look  a  plaguy  sight  more  like  packin  boxes  than  rooms. 
Well,  all  up  stairs  is  a  great  onfurnished  place,  filled  with 
every  sort  of  good  for  nothin  trumpery  in  natur-— barrels 
without  eends— corn  cobs  half  husked— cast  off  clothes  and 
bits  of  old  harness,  shce">  skins,  hides,  and  wool,  apples, 
one  half  rotten,  and  tother  half  squashed — a  thousand  or 
two  of  shingles  that  have  bust  their  withs,  and  broke  loose 
all  over  the  floor,  hay  rakes,  forks,  and  sickles,  without 
handles  or  teeth  ;  rusty  scythes,  and  odds  and  eends  with- 
out number.  When  any  thing  is  wanted,  then  there  is  a 
general  overhaul  of  the  whole  cargo,  and  away  they  get 
shifted  forrard,  one  by  one,  all  handled  over  and  chucked 
into  a  heap  together  till  the  lost  one  is  found ;  and  the  next 
time  away  they  get  pitched  to  the  starn  agin,  higglety,  pig- 
glety,  heels  over  head,  like  sheep  taken  a  split  for  it  over  a 
wall ;  only  they  increase  in  number  each  move,  cause  some 
on  'em  are  sure  to  get  broke  into  more  pieces  than  there 
was  afore.  Whenever  I  see  one  of  these  grand  houses, 
and  a  hat  lookin  out  o'  the  winder  with  nary  head  in  it, 
thinks  I,  I'll  be  darned  if  that's  a  place  for  a  wooden  clodl^ 


lAO 


THB  CLOOKMAKUU 


nothin  short  of  a  London  touch  would  go  down  with  them 
ibIkR,  so  I  calculate  I  wont  alight. 

Whenever  you  come  to  such  a  grand  place  as  this,  Squire, 
depend  on't  the  farm  ia  all  of  a  piece,  great  crops  of  this- 
tles, and  an  everiastin  yield  of  weeds,  and  cattle  the  best 
fed  in  the  country,  for  they  are  always  in  the  grain  fields 
or  mowin  lands,  and  the  pigs  a  rootin  in  the  potatoe  patches* 
A  spic  and  spun  new  gig  ut  the  door,  shinin  like  the  mud 
banks  of  Windsor,  when  the  sun^f  on  'em,  and  an  old  wrack 
of  a  hay  waggin,  with  its  tongue  onhitched,  and  stickin  out 
behind,  like  a  pig'.s  tail,  all  indicate  a  big  man.  He's  above 
thinkin  of  farmin  tools,  he  sees  to  the  bran  new  gig,  and 
the  hired  helps  look  arter  the  carts.  Catch  him  with  his  go- 
to-meetin  clothes  on,  a  rubbin  agin  their  nasty  greasy 
axles,  like  -a  tarry  nigger ;  not  he,  indeed,  he'd  stick  you  up 
with  it. 

-  The  la»t  time  I  came  by  here,  it  was  a  little  bit  arter  day 
light  down,  rainin  cats  and  dogs,  and  as  dark  as  Egypt; 
so,  thinks  I,  I'll  jist  turn  in  here  for  shelter  to  Squire  Bill 
Blake's.  Well,  I  knocks  away  at  the  front  door,  till  I 
thought  I'd  a  split  it  in ;  but  arter  a  rappin  awhile  to  no 
purpose,  and  Qndin  no  one  come,  I  gropes  my  way  round 
to  the  back  door,  and  opens  it,  and  feelin  all  along  the  par- 
tition for  the  latch  of  the  keepin  room,  without  finding  it,  I 
knocks  agin,  when  some  one  from  inside  calls  out  *  walk.* 
Thinks  I,  I  don't  cleverly  know  whether  that  indicates 
*  walk  in,'  or  *  walk  out,'  its  plaguy  short  metre,  that's  a 
fact;  but  I'll  see  any  how.  Well,  arter  gropin  about 
awhile,  at  last  I  got  hold  of  the  string  and  lifted  the  latch 
and  walked  in,  and  there  sot  old  Marm  Blake,  close  into 
one  corner  of  the  chimbley  fire  place,  a  see-sawin  in  a 
rockin  chair,  and  a  half  grown  black  house-help,  half  asleep 
in  tother  comer,  a  scroudgin  up  over  the  embers.  Who  be 
you  ?  said  Marm  Blake,  for  I  can't  see  you.  A  stranger, 
said  I.  Beck,  says  she,  speakin  to  the  black  heifer  in  the 
comer,  Beek,  says  she  agin,  raisin  her  voice,  I  believe  you 
are  as  def  as  a  post,  get  up  this  minit  and  stir  the  coals,  till 
I  see  the  man.  Arter  the  coals  were  stirred  into  a  blaze, 
the  old  lady  surveyed  me  from  head  to  foot,  then  she  axed 
me  my  name,  and  where  I  came  from,  where  I  was  cgoin, 
and  what  my  business  was.    I  guess,  said  she,  you  must 


7-.xi  T^fv  liTTt"'  "^.■W^'WpB' 


niuB  iir  Tm  dairy. 


-  161 


be  reasonable  wet,  sit  to  the  fire  and  dry  yourselft  or  may- 
hap your  health  may  be  endamnified  p'raps. 

So  I  sot  down,  and  we  soon  got  pretty  considerably  woU 
acquainted,  and  quite  sociable  like,  and  her  tongue,  when 
it  iairly  waked  up,  began  to  run  like  a  mill  race  when  the 
gate's  up.  I  hadn't  been  talkin  long,  'fore  I  well  nieh  lost 
sight  of  her  altogether  agin,  for  little  Beck  began  to  nourish 
about  her  broom,  right  and  leA,  in  great  style,  a  clearin  up, 
and  she  did  raise  such  an  auful  thick  cloud  o'  dust,  I  didn't 
know  if  I  should  ever  see  or  breathe  either  agin.  Well, 
when  all  was  sot  to  rights  and  the  fire  made  up,  the  old 
lady  began  to  apologize  for  bavin  no  candles ;  she  said 
she'd  had  a  grand  tea  party  the  night  afore,  and  used  them 
all  up,  and  a  whole  sight  of  vittals  too,  the  old  man  hadn't 
been  well  since,  and  had  gone  to  bed  airly.  But,  says  she, 
I  do  wish  with  all  my  heart  you  had  a  come  last  night,  for 
we  had  a  most  a  special  supper — punkin  pies  and  dough- 
nuts, and  apple  stirce,  and  a  roast  goose  stuffed  with  Indian 
puddin,  and  a  pig's  harslet  stewed  in  molasses  and  onions, 
and  I  don't  know  what  all,  and  the  fore  part  of  to-day  folks 
called  to  finish.  I  actilly  have  nothin  lefl  to  set  afore  you ; 
for  it  was  none  o'  your  skim-milk  parties,  but  superfine 
uppercrust  real  jam,  and  we  made  clean  work  of  it.  But 
I'll  make  some  tea,  any  how,  for  you,  and  perhaps,  arter 
that,  said  she,  alterin  of  her  tone,  perhaps  you'll  expound 
the  Scriptures,  for  it's  one  while  since  I've  heerd  them  laid 
tpen  powerfully.  I  hant  been  fairly  lifled  up  since  that 
good  man  Judas  Oglethrop  travelled  this  road,  and  then  she 
gave  a  groan  and  hung  down  her  head,  and  looked  corner- 
ways,  to  see  how  the  land  lay  thereabouts.  The  tea  kettle 
was  accordingly  put  on,  and  some  lard  fried  into  oil,  and 
poured  into  a  tumbler ;  which,  with  the  aid  of  an  inch  of 
cotton  wick,  served  as  a  make  shift  for  a  candle.  s* 

Well,  arter  tea  we  sat  and  chatted  awhile  about  fashions, 
and  markets,  and  sariaons,  and  scandal,  and  all  sorts  o' 
things :  and,  in  the  midst  of  it,  in  runs  the  nigger  wench, 
screamin  out  at  the  tip  eend  of  her  voice,  oh  Missus  I 
Missus !  there's  fire  in  the  Dairy,  fire  in  the  Dairy !  I'll 
give  it  to  you  for  that,  said  the  old  lady,  I'll  give  it  to  you 
for  that,  you  good  for  nothin  hussy,  that's  all  your  careless- 
Dess,  go  and  put  it  out  this  minit,  how  en  airth  did  it  get 


■i^^^'-^ 


-v.-i 


169 


Tm  oLoeuAKnu 


,T 


nighfs  milk 


w 


ne,  I  dare  say;  run  this  minit 
milk.  I  am  dreadful  afeard  of 
fire,  I  always  was  from  a  boy,  and  seein  the  poor  foolish 
critter  seize  a  broom  in  her  fright,  I  ups  with  the  tea  kettle 
and  follows  her ;  and  away  we  dipt  thro'  the  entry,  she 
callin  out  mind  the  cellar  door  on  the  right,  take  keer  of  the 
close  horse  on  the  left,  and  so  on,  but  as  I  couldn't  s6e 
nothin,  I  kept  right  straight  ahead.  At  last  my  foot  kotch- 
ed  in  somethin  or  another,  that  pitched  me  somewhat  less 
than  a  rod  or  so,  right  agin  the  poor  black  critter,  and 
away  we  went  heels  over  head.  I  heerd  a  splash  and  a 
groan,  and  I  smelt  somethin  plaguy  sour,  but  I  couldn't  sec 
nothin ;  at  last  I  got  hold  of  her  and  lifled  her  up,  for  she 
didn't  scream,  but  made  a  strange  kind  of  choakin  noise, 
and  by  this  time  up  came  Marm  Blake  with  u  light.  If  poor 
Beck  didn't  let  go  then  in  airnest,  and  sing  out  for  dear  life, 
its  a  pity,  for  she  had  gone  head  first  into  the  swill  tub, 
and  the  tea  kettle  hod  scalded  her  feet.  She  kept  a 
duncin  right  up  and  down,  like  one  ravin  distracted  mad, 
and  boohood  like  any  thing,  clawin  away  at  her  head 
the  whole  time,  to  clear  away  the  stuff  that  stuck  to  her 
wool.  M  »*'^'if.'«-t  4'..'v/  ''■'':;  'v-  f-nni  -.-.">••/    }■,;.»<•> 

I  held  in  as  long  as  I  could,  till  I  thought  I  should  have 
busted,  for  no  soul  could  help  larfin,  and  at  last  I  haw 
hawed  right  out.  You  good  for  nothin  stupid  slut,  you, 
said  the  old  lady  to  poor  Beck,  it  sarves  you  right,  you 
had  no  business  to  leave  it  there — I'll  pay  you.  But,  said 
I,  interferin  for  the  unfortunate  critter,  Good  gracious, 
Marm !  you  forget  the  fire.  No  I  don't,  said  she,  I  see 
him,  and  seesin  the  broom  that  had  fallen  from  the  nigger's 
hand,  she  exclaimed,  I  see  him,  the  nasty  varmint,  and 
began  to  belabor  most  onmarcifully  a  poor  half-starved  cur 
that  the  noise  had  attracted  to  the  entry.  I'll  teach  you, 
said  she,  to  drink  milk ;  I'll  larn  you  to  steal  into  the 
dairy,  and  the  besot  critter  joined  chorus  with  Beck,  and 
hey  both  yelled  together,  till  they  fairly  made  the  house 
ring  agin.  Presently  old  Squire  Blake  popt  his  head  out 
of  a  door,  and  rubbin  his  eyes,  half  asleep  and  half  awake, 
said,  What  the  Devil's  to  pay  now,  wife  ?  Why  nothin, 
says  she,  only,  ^fire's  in  the  dairy,''  and  Beck's  in  the  swill 
tub,  that's  all.     Well,  don*t  make  such  a  touss,  thai,  said 


....*; 


.-  *' 


.**>■  X^f.\ 


A   BODY    WITRCyUT    A   HEAD. 


468 


hoi  if  that's  all,  and  he  shot  tu  the  door,  and  went  to  bed 
agin.  When  we  returned  to  the  keepin  room,  the  old  lady 
told  me  that  they  always  had  had  a  dog  called  *  Fire*  ever 
since  her  grandfather,  Major  Donald  Eraser's  time,  and 
what  was  very  odd,  says  she,  every  one  on  *em  would  drink 
milk  if  he  had  a  chance. 

By  this  time  the  shower  was  over,  and  the  nK)on  shinin  so 
bright  and  clear  that  I  thought  Td  better  be  up  and  stirrin, 
and  arter  slippin  a  few  cents  into  the  poor  nigger  wench's 
hand,  I  took  leave  of  the  grand  folks  iu  the  big  house. 
Now,  Squire,  among  these  middlin  sized  farmers  you  may 
lay  this  down  as  a  rule — The  bigger  the  hof^ttj  the  higget  ^ 
the  fools  be  thafs  in  it. 

But,  howsomever,  I  never  call  to  mind  thai  are  go  in  the 
big  house,  up  to  the  right,  that  I  don't  snicker  when  I  think 
o£*  Fire  in  the  dairy. "*       x  iv  ^?* -fc*^-'*  >»  «ist*i»  ^ 

Ul-i-*;^?;;  ,u    ^y-.:?.:,':'  .'r-:''->'  ■***>>■*«*>• 


^^  '■ 


't 


CHAPTER  XXI  L 


H-H'-^' 


.-•^N  -? '  y"- 1"  '(Vv*^'^ 


A  BODY  WITHOUT  A  HEAIX 


iA 


,  I  ALLOT  you  had  ought  to  visit  our  great  country,  Squire, 
said  the  Clockmaker,  afore  you  quit  for  good  and  all. 
I  calculate  you  don't  understand  us.  The  most  splendid 
location  atween  the  Poles  is  the  United  States,  and  the  first 
man  alive  is  Gineral  Jackson,  the  hero  of  the  age,  him 
that's  skeered  the  British  out  of  their  seven  senses.  Then 
there's  the  great  Daniel  Webster,  it's  generally  allowed, 
he's  the  greatest  orator  or  *he  face  of  the  airth,  by  a  long 
chalk,  and  Mr.  Van  Bi:tc;v^,  and  Mr.  Clay,  and  Amos 
Kindle,  and  Judge  White,  and  a  whole  raft  of  statesmen 
up  to  everything  and  all  manner  of  politics ;  there  aint  the 
beat  of  'em  to  be  foui/d  any  where.  If  you  was  to  hear 
'em  I  concait  you'd  hear  genuine  pure  English  for  once,  any 
how ;  for  it's  generally  allowed  we  speak  English  better 
than  the  British.  They  all  know  me  to  be  an  American 
citizen  here,  b)  my  talk,  for  we  speak  it  complete  in  New 
England. 


..-f    .S; 


"^;r,' 


i'-a-. 


154 


Cl       THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


Yes,  if  yoii  want  to  see  a  free  people — them  that  makes 
their  own  laws,  accordin  to  their  own  notions — go  to  the 
States.  Indeed,  if  you  can  fait  them  at  all,  they  are  a 
little  grain  too  free.  Our  folks  have  their  head  a  trifle  too 
much,  sometimes,  particularly  in  Elections  both  in  free- 
dom of  speech  and  freedom  of  Press.  One  hadn't  ought  to 
blart  right  out  always  all  that  comes  uppermost.  A  horse 
that's  too  free  frets  himself  and  his  rider  too,  and  both  on 
'em  lose  flesh  in  the  long  run.  I'd  een  a  most  as  lieves  use 
the  whip  sometimes,  as  to  be  lor  everlastinly  a  puUin  at  the 
rein.  One's  arm  gets  plaguy  tired,  that's  a  fact.  I  often 
think  of  a  lesson  I  larnt  Jehiel  Quirk  once,  for  lettin  his 
tongue  outrun  his  good  manners. 

I  was  down  to  Rhode  Island  one  summer,  to  larn  gildin 
and  bronzin,  so  as  to  give  the  flnishin  touch  to  my  clocks. 
Well,  the  folks  elected  me  a  hogreave,  jist  to  poke  fun  at 
me,  and  Mr.  Jehiel,  a  bean  pole  of  a  lawyer,  was  at  the 
bottom  of  it.  So  one  day,  up  to  Town  Hall,  where  there 
was  an  oration  to  be  delivered  on  our  Independence,  jist 
afore  the  oraitor  commenced,  in  runs  Jehiel  in  a  most  allflred 
hurry ;  and  says  he,  I  wonder,  says  he,  if  there's  are  a  hog- 
reave here,  because  if  there  be  I  require  a  turn  of  his 
office.  And  then,  said  he,  a  lookin  up  to  me  and  callin  out 
at  the  tip  eend  of  his  voice,  Mr.  Hogreave  Slick,  says  he, 
here's  a  job  out  here  for  you.  Folks  snickered  a  good 
deal,  and  I  felt  my  spunk  a  risin  like  half  flood  that's  a  fact; 
but  I  bit  in  my  breath,  and  spoke  quite  cool.  Possible, 
says  I ;  well  duty,  I  do  suppose,  must  be  done,  though  it 
tante  the  most  agreeable  in  thr  world.  I've  been  a  thinkin, 
says  I,  that  I  would  be  liable  to  a  fine  of  filly  cents  for  suf- 
ferin  a  hog  to  run  at  large,  and  as  you  are  the  biggest  one,  I 
presume  in  all  Rhode  Island,  I'll  jist  begin  by  ringin  your 
nose,  to  prevent  you  for  the  futur  from  pokin  your  snout 
where  you  hadn't  ought  to — and  I  seized  him  by  the  nose 
and  nearly  wrung  it  off.  Well,  you  never  heerd  such  a 
shoutin  and  clappin  of  hands,  and  cheerin,  in  your  life — 
they  haw-hawed  like  tiiunder-  Says  I,  Jehiel  Quirk,  that 
was  a  superb  joke  of  yourn,  how  you  made  the  folks  lurf, 
didn't  you  ?  You  are  een  amost  the  wittiest  critter  I  ever 
teed.     I  ^uess  you'll  mind  your  parts  o'  speech,  and  study 


A   BODY   WITHOUT   A   BEAD. 


15fi 


the  amdence' agin  afore  you  let  your  clapper  run  arter  that 
fashion,  won't  you. 

I  thought,  said  I,  that  among  you  republicans,  there  were 
no  gradations  of  rank  or  office,  and  that  all  were  equal,  tho 
Hogreave  and  the  Governor,  the  Judge  and  the  Crier,  the 
master  and  his  servant ;  and  although  from  the  nature  of 
things,  more  power  might  be  entrusted  to  one  thon  the 
other,  yet  that  the  rank  of  all  was  precisely  the  same.  Well, 
said  he,  it  is  so  in  theory,  but  not  always  in  practice ;  and 
when  we  do  pr&ctise  it,  it  seems  to  go  a  little  agin  the  grain, 
as  if  it  warn't  quite  right  neither.  When  I  was  last  to  Bal- 
timore there  was  a  Court  there,  and  Chief  Justice  Marshall 
was  detailed  there  for  duty.  Well,  with  us  in  New  Eng- 
land, the  Sheriff  attends  the  Judge  to  Court,  and  says  I  to 
the  Sheriff,  why  don't  you  escort  that  are  venerable  .old 
Judge  to  the  State  House,  he's  a  credit  to  our  nation  that 
man,  he's  actilly  the  first  pothook  on  the  crane,  the  whole 
weight  is  on  him,  if  it  warn't  for  him  the  fat  would  be  in 
the  fire  in  no  time ;  I  wonder  you  don't  show  him  that  re- 
spect— it  wouldn't  hurt  you  one  morsel,  I  guess.  Says  he, 
quite  miffy  like,  don't  he  know  the  way  to  Court  as  well  as 
I  do  ?  If  I  thought  he  didn't,  I'd  send  one  of  my  niggers  to 
show  him  the  road.  I  wonder  who  was  his  lackey  last 
year,  that  he  wants  me  to  be  hisn  this  time.  It  don't  con- 
vene to  one  of  our  free  and  enlightened  citizens,  to  tag 
arter  any  man,  that's  a  fact?  Its  too  Elnglish  and  too 
foreign  for  our  glorious  institutions.  He's  bound  by  law  to 
be  there  at  10  o'clock,  and  so  be  I,  and  we  both  know  the 
way  there  I  reckon. 

I  told  the  story  to  our  minister,  Mr.  Hopewell,  (and  he 
has  some  odd  notions  about  him  that  man,  though  he  don'* 
always  let  out  what  he  thinks ;)  says  he,  Sam,  that  was 
in  bad  taste,  (a  great  phrase  of  the  old  gentleman's  that)  in 
bad  taste,  Sam.  That  are  Sheriff  was  a  goney ;  don't  ci'* 
your  cloth  arter  his  pattern,  or  your  garment  won't  becomo 
you,  I  tell  you.  We  are  too  enlightened  to  worship  our  fellow 
citizens  as  the  ancients  did,  but  we  ought  to  pay  great 
respect  to  vartue  and  exalted  talents  in  this  life,  and,  arter 
their  death,  there  should  be  staiues  of  eminent  men  plnceJ 
in  our  national  temples,  for  the  veneration  of  arter  ages,  and 
public  ceremonies  performed  aonually  to  their  honor.  Arte! 


( 

V 


^i^H 


-'"V'"    ': 


t 


156 


THE  CLOCKMAKEIU 


i  ■'' 


I*- 


^ . 


all}  Sam,  said  he,  (and  he  made  a  considerable  of  a  long 
pause,  as  if  he  was  dubersome  whether  he  ought  to  speak 
out  or  not)  arter  all,  Sam,  said  he,  atweea  ourselves,  (but 
you  must  not  let  on  I  said  so,  for  the  fulness  of  time  han't 
yet  come)  half  a  yard  of  blue  ribbon  is  a  plaguy  cheap  way 
of  rewardin  merit,  as  the  English  do ;  and,  although  we 
larf  at  'em,  (for  folks  always  will  larf  at  what  they  han't 
got,  and  never  can  get,)  yet  titles  aint  bad  things  as  objects 
of  ambition,  are  they  ?  Then  tappen  me  on  the  shoulder, 
and  lookin  up  and  smilin,  as  he  always  did  when  he  was 
pleased  with  an  idee.  Sir  Samuel  Slick  would  not  sound 
bad,  I  guess,  would  it  Sam  ? 

When  I  look  at  the  English  House  of  Lords,  said  he, 
and  see  so  much  laming,  piety,  talent,  honor,  vartue,  and 
refinement  collected  together,  I  ax  myself  this  here  ques- 
tion, can  a  system  which  produces  and  sustains  such  a 
body  of  men  as  the  world  never  saw  before  and  never  will 
see  agin,  be  defective  ?  Well,  I  answer  myself,  perhaps  it 
is,  for  all  human  institutions  are  so,  but  I  guess  it's  e'en 
about  the  best  arter  all.  It  wouldn't  do  here  now,  Sam, 
nor  perhaps  for  a  century  to  come,  but  it  will  come  sooner 
or  later  with  some  variations.  Now  the  Newtown  pippin, 
when  transplanted  to  England,  don't  produce  such  fruit  as 
It  does  in  Long  Island,  and  English  fruits  don't  presarve 
their  flavour  here  neither ;  allowance  must  be  made  for 
difference  of  soil  and  climai;':! — (Oh  Lord !  thinks  I,  if  he 
turns  into  his  orchard,  I'm  done  for ;  I'll  have  to  give  him 
the  dodge  some  how  or  another,  through  some  hole  in  the 
fence,  that's  a  fact,  but  he  passed  on  that  time.)  So  it  is, 
said  he,  with  constitutions ;  ourn  will  gradually  approxi- 
mate to  theirn,  and  theirn  to  ourn.  As  they  lose  their 
strength  of  executive,  they  will  varge  to  republicanism, 
and  as  we  invigorate  the  form  of  government,  (as  we 
must  do,  or  go  to  the  old  boy,)  we  shall  tend  towards  a 
rnonarchy.  If  this  comes  on  gradually,  like  the  chan^  . 
in  the  human  body,  by  the  slow  apprdach  of  old  age,  so 
much  the  better :  but  I  fear  we  shall  have  fevers  and  con- 
vulsion-fits, and  cholics,  and  an  everlastin  gripin  of  the 
intestines  first ;  you  and  I  wont  live  to  see  it,  Sam,  but  oui 
posteriors  will,  you  may  depend. 

I  don't  go  the  whole  figur  with  minister,  said  the  Clock 


A   BODY   WITHOUT   A  HEAD. 


167 


maker,  but  I  do  opinionate  with  him  in  part.  In  our  busi- 
ness relations  we  bely  our  political  principles — we  say 
every  man  is  equal  in  the  Union,  and  should  have  an  equal 
vote  and  voice  in  the  Government;  but  in  our  Banks, 
Railroad  Companies,  Factory  Corporations,  and  so  on, 
every  man's  vote  is  regilated  by  his  share  and  proportion 
of  stock ;  and  if  it  warn't  so,  no  man  would  take  hold  on 
these  things  at  all. 

Natur  ordained  it  so— a  father  of  a  family  is  head,  and 
rules  supreme  in  his  household ;  his  eldest  son  and  darter 
are  like  first  leAenants  under  him,  and  then  there  is  an 
overseer  over  the  niggers;  it  would  not  do  for  all  to  bo 
equal  there.  So  it  is  in  the  univarse,  it  is  ruled  by  one 
Superior  Power ;  if  all  the  Angels   had   a  voice   in  the 

Government,  I  guess Here  I  fell   fast   asleep;  I 

had  been  nodding  for  some  time,  not  in  approbation  of 
what  he  said,  but  in  heaviness  of  slumber,  for  I  had  nev3r 
before  heard  him  so  prosy  since  I  first  overtook  him  on 
the  Colchester  road.  I  hate  politics  as  a  subject  of  con- 
versation, it  is  too  wide  a  field  for  chit  chat,  and  too 
oflen  ends  in  angry  discussion.  How  long  he  contin- 
ued this  train  of  speculation  I  do  not  know,  but,  judging  by 
the  different  aspect  of  the  country,  I  must  have  slept  an 
hour. 

I  was  at  length  aroused  by  the  report  of  liis  rifle,  which 
he  had  discharged  from  the  waggon.  The  last  I  recollect- 
ed of  his  conversation  was,  I  think,  about  American  angels 
having  no  voice  in  the  Government,  an  assertion  that 
struck  my  drowsy  faculties  as  not  strictly  true ;  as  I  had 
oflen  heard  that  the  American  ladies  talked  frequex'ly 
and  warmly  on  the  subject  of  politics,  and  knew  that  one 
of  them  had  very  recently  the  credit  of  breaking  up  Gen- 
eral Jackson's  cabinet. — When  I  awoke,  the  first  I  heard 
was,  well,  I  declare,  if  that  aint  an  amazin  fine  shot,  too, 
considerin  how  the  critter  was  a  runnin  the  whole  blessed 
time ;  if  I  han't  cut  her  head  off  with  a  ball,  jist  below 
the  throat,  that's  a  fact.  There's  no  mistake  in  a  good 
Kentucky  rifle,  I  tell  you.  Whose  head  ?  said  I,  in  great 
alarm,  whose  head,  Mr.  Slick  1  for  heaven's  sake  what  have 
you  done?  (for  I  had  been  dreaming  of  those  angelic  politi- 
cians,  the  American  ladies.)    Why  that  are  hen  partridge's 

-1     A 

A* 


Vr ,     ( 


...       .,1 


;^i^iw_W;  m^w  ,-.|iw*! w"' 


-(i;:": 


A, 


^t 


■^158 


n  -.3^-  THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


.  head,  to  be  sure,  said  he ;  don't  you  see  how  special  wonderful 
t  wise  it  looks,  a  flutterin  about  arter  its  head.     True,  said  I, 
•  rubbing  my  eyes,  and  opening  them  in  time  to  see  the  last 
.  muscular  spasms  of  the  decapitated  body ;  true,  Mr.  Slick 
it  is  a  happy  illustration  of  our  previous  conversation 
a  body  without  a  head,        ■  n^v.'r  <     * 


K-. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


A  TALE  OF  BUNKERS  HILL 

Mr.  Slick,  like  all  his  countrymen  whom  I  have  seen, 
felt  that  his  own  existence  was  involved  in  that  of  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  that  it  was  his  duty 
to  uphold  it  upon  all  occasions.  He  affected  to  consider 
Its  government  and  its  institutions  as  perfect,  and  if  any 
doubt  was  suggcssted  as  to  the  stability  or  character  of 
either,  would  make  the  common  reply  of  all  Americans, 
*  I  guess  you  don't  understand  us,'  or  else  enter  into  a 
laboured  defence.  When  left,  however,  to  the  free  ex- 
pression of  his  own  thoughts,  he  would  often  give  utterance 
to  those  apprehensions  which  most  men  feel  in  the  event 
of  an  experiment  not  yet  fairly  tried,  and  which  has  in 
many  parts  evidently  disappointed  vthe  sanguine  hopes  of 
its  friends.  But,  even  on  these  occasions,  when  his  vigi- 
lance  seemed  to  slumber,  he  would  generally  cover  them, 
b^"  giving  them  as  the  remarks  of  others,  or  concealing 
them  in  a  tale.  It  was  this  habit  that  gave  his  discourse 
rather  the  appearance  of  thinking  aloud  than  a  connected 
conversation. 

We  are  a  great  nation,  Squire,  he  said,  that's  sartln ;  but 
I'm  afear'd  we  didn't  altog(;ther  start  right.  It's  in  politics 
;»s  in  racin,  every  thing  depends  upon  a  fair  start.  If  you 
are  off  too  quick,  you  have  to  pull  up  and  turn  back  agin, 
and  your  beast  gets  out  of  wind  and  is  baffled,  and  if  you 
lose  in  the  start  you  han't  got  a  fair  chance  arterwards,  and 
are  plaguy  apt  tp  b^  jockied  in  thq  course.     When  we  set 


I 


■K- '  v>ry:y' 


"T' 


A   TALE   or   BUICKER'S  HILL. 


159 


up  househeepin,  as  it  were  for  ourselves,  we  hated  our  step- 
mother Old  England,  so  dreadful  bad,  v/e  wouldn't  foller 
any  of  her  ways  of  managin  at  all,  but  made  new  receipts 
for  ourselves.  Well,  we  missed  it  in  many  things  most 
consumcdly,  some  how  or  another.  Did  you  ever  see,  said 
he,  a  congregation  split  right  in  two  by  a  quarrel  ?  and  one 
part  go  off  and  set  up  for  themselves.  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
said  I,  that  I  have  seen  some  melancholy  instances  of  the. 
kind.  Well,  they  shoot  ahead,  or  drop  astern,  as  the  case 
may  be,  but  they  soon  get  on  another  tufjk,  and  leave  the 
old  ship  clean  out  of  sight.  When  folks  once  take  to  emi- 
gratin  in  religion  in  this  way,  they  never  know  where  to 
bide.  First  they  try  one  location,  and  then  they  try  an- 
other ;  some  settle  here  and  some  improve  there,  but  they 
don't  hitch  their  horses  together  long.  Sometimes  they 
complain  they  have  too  little  water,  at  other  times  that  they 
have  too  mvch  ;  they  are  never  satisfied,  and,  wherever 
these  separatists  go,  they  onsettle  others  as  bad  as  them- 
selves.    /  never  look  on  a  desarter  as  any  great  shakes. 

My  poor  father  used  to  say,  *  Sam,  mind  what  I  tell  you, 
if  a  man  don't  agree  in  all  particulars  with  his  church,  and 
can't  go  the  whole  hog  with  'em,  he  aint  justified  on  that 
account,  no  how,  to  separate  from  them,  for  Sam, "  Schism 
is  a  sin  in  the  eye  of  God."  The  whole  Christian  v/orld, 
he  would  say,  is  divided  into  two  great  families,  the  Catho- 
lic and  Protestant.  Well,  the  Catholic  is  a  united  family, 
a  happy  family,  and  a  strong  family,  all  governed  by  one 
head ;  and  Sam,  as  sure  as  eggs  is  eggs,  that  are  family 
will  grub  out  tother  one,  stalk,  branch  and  root,  it  won't  so 
much  as  leave  the  seed  of  it  in  the  ground,  to  grow  by 
chance  as  a  nateral  curiosity.  Now  the  Protestant  lamily 
is  like  a  bundle  of  refuse  shinglr  ,  when  withered  up  to- 
gether, (which  it  never  was  and  nc  er  will  be  to  all  etarnity)  . 
no  gi'.i^t  of  a  bundle  arter  all,  you  might  take  it  up  under 
one  arm,  and  walk  off  with  it  without  winkin.  But,  when 
11  lyin  loose  as  it  always  is,  jist  look  at  it,  anJ  see  what  a 
sight  ii  is,  all  >  i  vmn  about  by  every  wind  of  doctrine,  some 
away  up  een  a  most  out  of  &•  'it,  others  rolin  c"?  and  over 
in  the  dirt,  some  split  to  pieces,  and  others  so  \\  .  ed  by  the 
weather  and  cracked  by  the  sun — no  two  of  'em  will  lie  so 
as  to  make  a  close  jmt.    They  are  all  divided  into  ^   ^13 


*«*!■■•'.■'  ^.•,*^-     ^ 


_« 


100 


*-  TH£   CLOCKMAKBR. 


i   ft 


*> 


i"t 


^nr.^: 


«*:il„:  .. 


railin,  rjv.arrelin,  separutin,  and  agreein  in  nothin,  but  hatin 
each  oth<;r.  It  is  awful  to  think  on.  Tother  family  will 
some  day  or  other  gather  them  all  up,  put  them  into  a  bundle 
and  bind  them  up  tight,  and  condemn  'em  as  fit  for  nothin 
under  the  sua,  but  the  fire.  Now  he  who  splUH  one  of  these 
here  so  ts  by  schism,  or  he  who  ]?re«cbes  schism;,  commits 
a  griev<>us  sin ;  and  Sam,  if  you  vfO.y  your  own  p(  -ice  of 
mind,  hiive  nothin  to  do  with  such  folks. 

U's  pretty  much  the  samr:  in  Pcutics.  i  mat  q.i'i:  clear 
in  my  coDscience,  Sam,  about  our  g'orious  revoiutiou.  If 
that  are  binod  was  shtd  justly  in  the  rebellion,  then  it  was 
the  Lord's  cloiu,  but  if  unlawfully,  how  am  I  to  answer  for 
my  share  in  it.  I  was  at  Ranker's  Hiil  (the  rao  t  sp.endid 
battle  its  generally  allowed  that  ever  was  fov-^l^t) ;  what 
effeci  my  shots  had,  I  can't  tell,  and  I  am  'lad  i  can't,  all 
except  one,  Sam,  and  that  shot — Here  the  old  g-^atleman 
bocaijie  dreadful  agitated,  he  shook  like  an  ague  fit,  and  he 
y/vi'.ed  ur.  and  down  the  room,  and  wrung  his  hands,  and 
groaned  bitterly.  I  have  wrastled  with  the  Lord,  Sam,  and 
!i«.'.ve  priyed  to  hir*  to  enlighten  me  on  that  pint,  and  to 
wasii  out  the  stain  of  that  are  blood  from  my  hands.  I 
never  told  you  that  are  story,  nor  your  mother  neither, 
for  she  could  not  stand  it,  poor  critter,  she's  kinder  nar- 

VOUS.  .      t: 

Well,  Doctor  Warren,  (the  first  soldier  of  his  age,  though 
he  never  fought  afore,)  commanded  us  all  to  resarve  our 
fire  till  the  British  came  within  pint  blank  shot,  and  we 
could  cleveily  see  the  whites  of  their  eyes,  and  we  did 
so — and  we  mowed  them  down  like  grass,  and  we  repeat- 
ed our  fire  with  awful  effect.  I  was  among  the  last  thdi 
remained  behind  the  breastwork,  for  most  on  'em,  arter 
the  second  shot,  cut  and  run  full  split.  The  British  were 
close  to  us ;  and  an  officer,  with  his  sword  drawn,  was 
leading  on  his  men  and  encouragin  them  to  the  cbarge. 
1  could  see  his  features,  he  was  a  rael  handsum  nrian,  I  can , 
see  him  now  with  his  white  breeches  and  black  gaiters, 
and  red  coat,  and  three  cornered  cocked  hat,  as  plain  as  if 
it  was  yesterday  instead  of  the  year  '75.  Well,  I  took 
a  steady  aim  at  him  and  fired.  He  didn't  move  for  a  space, 
and  I  thought  I  had  missed  him,  ^  i.  i.  all  of  a  sudden,  h  . 
sprung  right  straight  up  an  een  :   -JH  sword  slipt  through 


M    ■- 


1»" 


A   TALK  or   bunker's  HTLL. 


161 


his  hands  up  to  the  pint,  and  then  he  fell  flat  on  his  face 
atop  of  the  blade,  and  it  came  straight  out  througli  his 
back.  He  was  fairly  skivered.  I  never  seed  any  thing 
so  awful  since  I  was  raised,  I  octilly  screamed  out  with 
horror — and  I  threw  away  my  gun  and  joined  them  tha 
were  retreatin  over  the  neck  to  Charlestown.  Sam,  that 
are  British  officer,  if  our  rebellion  was  onjust  or  onlawfut, 
was  murdered,  that's  a  fact;  and  the  idee,  now  I  am 
growin  old,  haunts  rne  day  and  night.  Sometimes  I  begin 
with  the  Stamp  Act,  and  I  go  over  all  our  grievances,  one 
by  one,  and  say  aint  they  a  sufficient  justification  ?  Well, 
it  makes  a  long  list,  and  I  get  kinder  satisfied,  and  it 
appears  as  clear  as  any  thing.  But  sometimes  there 
come  doubts  in  my  mind  jist  like  a  guest  that's  not  invited 
or  not  expected,  and  takes  you  at  a  short  like,  and  I  say, 
warn't  the  Stamp  Act  repealed^  and  concessions  made,  and 
warn't  offers  sent  to  settle  all  fairly — and  I  get  troubled 
and  oneasy  agin  ?     And  then  I  say  to  myself^  says  I,  oh 


yes, 


but  them  ofiers  came  too  late.  I  do  nothin  now, 
when  I  am  alone,  but  argue  it  over  and  over  agin.  I 
nctilly  dream  on  that  man  in  my  sleep  sometimes,  and 
then  I  see  him  as  plain  as  if  he  was  afore  me,  and  I  go 
over  it  all  agin  till  I  come  to  that  are  shot,  and  then  I 
leap  right  up  in  bed  and  scream  like  all  vengeance,  and 
your  mother,  poor  old  critter,  says,  Sam,  says  she,  what 
on  airth  ails  you  to  make  you  act  so  like  old  Scratch  in 
your  sleep — I  do  believe  there's  somethin  or  another  on 
your  conscience.  And  I  say,  Polly  dear,  I  guess  we're  a 
goin  to  have  rain,  for  that  plaguy  cute  rheumatis  has  seiz- 
ed my  foot  and  it  does  antagonise  me  so  I  have  no  peace. 
It  always  does  so  when  it's  like  for  a  change.  Dear  heart, 
she  says,  (the  poor  simple  critter,)  then  I  guess  I  had  bet- 
ter rub  it,  hadn't  I,  Sam  ?  and  she  crawls  out  of  bed  and 
gets  her  red  flannel  petticoat,  and  rubs  away  at  my  fool 
ever  so  long.  Oh,  Sam,  if  she  could  rub  it  out  of  my  heart 
as  easy  as  she  thinks  she  rubs  it  out  of  my  foot,  I  should 
be  in  peace,  that's  a  fact. 

\\  hot's  done,  Sam,  can't  be  helped,  there  is  no  use  in 
cryin  over  split  milk,  but  still  one  can't  help  a  thinkin  on  it 
But  i  lon't  love  schisms,  and  I  don't  love  rebellion. 

CXir  revolution  has  made  us  grow  faster  and  grow  richer 


fc?i 


im 


THS  OLOCKHAKBIU 


but,  Sam,  when  we  were  younger  and  poorer,  we  were 
more  pious  and  more  happy.  We  have  nothin  fixed  eithci 
in  religion  or  politics.  What  connexion  there  ought 
to  be  atween  Church  and  State,  I  am  riot  availed,  but 
some  there  ought  to  be  as  sure  as  the  I^rd  made  Moses. 
Religion,  when  left  to  itself,  as  with  us,  grows  too  rank 
and  luxuriant.  Suckers  and  sprouts,  and  intersecting 
shoots,  and  superfluous  wood  make  a  nice  shady  tree 
to  look  at,  but  where's  the  fruit,  Sam  7  that's  the  question 
— where's  the  fruit  1  No ;  the  pride  of  human  wisdom, 
cmd  the  presumption  it  breeds  will  ruinate  us.  Jefferson 
was  an  infidel,  and  avowed  it,  and  gloried  in  it,  and  called 
it  the  enlightenment  of  the  age.  Cambridge  College 
is  Unitarian,  cause  it  looks  wise  to  doubt,  and  every 
drumstick  of  a  boy  ridicules  the  belief  of  his  forefathers. 
If  our  country  is  to  be  darkened  by  infidelity,  our  Govern- 
ment defied  by  every  State,  and  every  State  ruled  by  mobs 
— then,  Sam,  the  blood  we  shed  in  our  revolution  will  be 
atoned  for  in  the  blood  and  suffering  of  our  fellow-citizens. 
The  murders  of  that  civil  war  will  be  expiated  by  a  politi 
cal  suicide  of  the  State.' 

I  am  somewhat  of  father's  opinion,  said  the  Clockmaker, 
though  I  don't  go  the  whole  figur  with  him,  but  he  needn't 
have  made  such  an  everlastin  touss  about  fixin  that  are 
British  Officer's  flint  for  him,  for  he'd  a  died  himself  by  this 
time,  I  do  suppose,  if  he  had  a  missed  his  shot  at  him. 
Praps  we  might  have  done  a  little  better,  and  praps  we 
mightn't,  by  stickin  a  little  closer  to  the  old  constitution. 
But  one  thing  I  will  say,  I  think,  arter  all,  your  Colony 
Government  is  about  as  happy  and  at  good  a  one  as  I  know 
on.  A  man's  life  and  property  are  well  protected  here  at 
little  cost,  aud  he  can  go  where  he  likes,  provided  he  don'i 
trespass  on  his  neighbour.  ~  , 

I  guess  that's  enough  foi'  aiiy  on  us,  now,  aint  it  ? 


.-'•\ 


GULLING   A    BLUE-N08B. 


m 


.:t-t. 


CHAPTER  XXXI.  -■^'•-  ^  M^u 

GULLING  A  BLUE-NOSE.  ♦.•  v  .    ^  •!  5*i.* 

I  ALLOT,  said  Mr.  Slick,  that  the  blue-noses  are  the  most 
gullible  folks  on  the  face  of  the  airth — rigular  soft  horns, 
that's  a  fact.  Politicks  and  such  stuff  set  'em  a  gapin,  like 
children  in  a  chimbly  corner  listenin  to  tales  of  ghosts, 
Salem  witches,  and  Nova  Scotia  snow  storms  ;  and  while 
they  stand  starin  and  yawpin,  all  eyes  and  mouth,  they  get 
their  pockets  picked  of  every  cent  that's  in  'cm.  One  can- 
didate chap  says,  '  Feller  citizens,  this  country  is  goln  to 
the  dogs  hand  over  hand ;  look  at  your  rivers,  you  have  no 
bridges ;  at  your  wild  lauds,  you  have  no  roads ;  at  your 
treasury,  you  ainte  got  a  cent  in  it;  at  your  markets, 
things  don't  fetch  nothin ;  at  your  fish,  the  Yankees  ketch 
*em  all.  There's  nothin  behind  you  but  sufTerin,  around 
you  but  poverty,  afore  you  but  slavery  and  death.  What's 
the  cause  of  this  unheerd  of  awful  state  of  things,  ay, 
what's  the  cause?  Why  Judges,  and  Banks,  and  Law- 
yers,  and  great  folks,  have  swallered  all  the  money. 
They've  got  you  down,  and  they'll  kee;-  you  down  to  all 
etarnity,  you  and  your  posteriors  arter  yes.  Rise  up,  like 
men,  arouse  yourselves  like  freemen,  and  elv  e  to  the 
Legislatur,  and  I'll  lead  on  the  small  but  patric  ja  band,  I'll 
put  the  big  wigs  thro'  their  facins,  I'll  make  'em  shake  in 
their  shoes,  I'll  knock  off  your  chains  and  make  you  free.' 
Well,  the  goneys  fall  tu  and  elect  him,  and  he  desarts  right 
away,  with  balls,  rifle,  powder  horn,  and  all.  He  promised 
too  much.  -  i  i «. 

Then  comes  a  rael  good  man,  and  an  everlastin  fine 
preacher,  a  most  a  special  spiritual  man,  renounces  the 
world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  preachfP  nnd  prays  day 
and  night,  so  kind  to  the  poor,  and  so  h>.  !>>.',  he  has  no 
more  pride  than  a  babe,  and  so  short-handed,  he's  no  but- 
ter  to  his  bread — all  self  denial,  mortifyin  the  flesh.  Well, 
as  soon  as  he  can  work  it,  he  marries  the  richest  gall  in  al' 
his  flock,  and  then  his  biead  is  buttered  on  both  sides 
He  promised  too  much. . . 

Then  comes  a  doctor,  and  a  prime  article  he  is,  too, 


tif 


mi 


A/ 


'*^: 


''V 


^^■^IS^l 


164 


THUS  OLOOKMAKSn. 


:\>i :. 


Pve  got,  says  he,  a  screw  auger  emetic  and  hot  crop,  and 
if  I  cant  euro  all  sorts  o'  things  in  natur,  my  name  aint 
quack.  Well  he  turns  stomach  and  pocket  both  inside  out, 
and  leaves  poor  blue-nose — a  dead  man.  He  promised  too 
murk, 

'4  <jn  vwmes  a  Lawyer,  an  honest  lawyer  too,  a  rnel 
"vonn  i'  »nder  the  sun,  as  straight  as  a  shingle  in  all  hia 
dealins.  Hf3's  so  honest  ho  can't  bear  to  hear  tell  of 
other  lawyers,  he  writes  agin  *em,  raves  agin  'em,  votes 
agin  'cm,  they  are  all  rogues  but  him.  He's  jist  the 
man  to  take  a  case  in  hand,  cause  he  will  see  justice  done. 
Well,  he  vvin-  'r  ^..o/,  ai? '  fobs  all  for  costs,  cause  he's 
sworn  to  see  justice  done  to— himself.  He  promised  too 
much.  ^' 

Then  comes  a  Yankee  clock  maker,  (and  here  Mr.  Slick 
looked  up  and  smiled,)  with  his  *  Soft  Sawder,'  and  '  Hu- 
man Natur,'  and  he  sells  clocks  warranted  to  run  from 
July  to  Etarnity,  stoppages  included,  and  I  must  say  they 
do  run  as  long  as — as  long  as  wooden  clocks  common'/ 
do,  that's  a  fact.  But  I'll  show  you  presently  how  1  put 
the  leak  into  'em,  for  here's  a  feller  a  little  bit  ahead  on  us, 
whose  flint  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  fix  this  while  past. 
Here  we  were  nearly  thrown  out  of  '3  waggon,  0}  Mie 
breaking  down  of  one  of  those  small  wooden  bridges,  w'  ^h 
prove  so  annoying  and  so  dangerous  to  travellers.  j_  d 
you  hear  that  are  snap,  said  he,  well,  as  sure  as  fate,  I'll 
break  my  clocks  over  them  are  etarnal  log  bridges,  if 
Old  Clay  clips  over  them  arter  that  fashion.  Them  are 
poles  are  plajruy  treacherous,  they  are  jist  like  old  Marm 
Patience  Doesgood's  teeth,  that  keeps  the  great  United 
Independent  Deiiocratic  Hotel  at  Squaw  Neck  Creek, 
in  Massachusetts  one  half  gone,  and  tother  half  rotten 
eends. 

I  th'>ught  you  had  disposed  of  your  last  Clock,  said  I,  at 
Coi.:hester,  to  Deacon  Flint.  So  I  did,  he  replied,  the  last 
one  I  had  to  sell  to  him,  but  I  got  u  few  left  for  other  folks 
yet.  Now  there  :  a  man  on  this  road,  one  Zeb  Allen,  a 
rael  genuine  kinfl'iit,  a  proper  close  fisted  customer  as 
you'll  alnio.*  e  ly  where,  and  one  that's  not  altogether 
the  straight  thmg  in  his  dealin  neither.  He  dont  want  no 
one  tc   live  li.'t  himself,  and  he's  mighty  handsum  to  me 


i    n».  n' 


t?^ 


OULLIlfO    A    BLUB*lfOSE. 


165 


J 


I,  at 
last 
folks 
Icn,  a 
er  as 
;ether 
nt  no 
me 


Bayin  n\"  L  >cks  are  all  a  cheat,  and  that  we  ruinate  tlie 
country,  a  drainin  every  drop  of  money  out  of  it,  a  callin 
me  a  Yankee  broom  and  what  not.  But  it  tante  all  jist 
Gospel  that  he  says.  Now  I'll  put  a  Clock  on  him  afore 
he  knows  it.  Til  gu  right  into  him  as  slick  as  a  whistle,  nnd 
play  him  to  the  ecnd  of  my  line  like  a  trout.  I'll  have  a 
hook  in  his  gills,  while  he's  a  thinkin  he's  only  smellin  at 
the  bait.  There  he  is  now,  I'll  be  darned  if  he  aint,  standin 
afore  his  shop  door,  lo<jkin  as  strong  as  high  proof  Jamaiky; 
I  guess  I'll  whip  out  the  bung  while  he's  a  lookin  arter 
the  spicket,  and  praps  he'll  be  none  o'  the  wiser  till  he  finds 
it  out,  neither.  .<! 

Well,  Squire,  how  do  you  do,  said  he,  how's  all  at  home  ? 
Reasonable  well,  I  give  you  thanks,  won't  you  alight? 
Can't  to-day,  said  Mr.  Slick,  I'm  in  a  considerable  of  a 
hurry  to  katch  the  packet,  have  you  any  commands  for 
Sow  Wi  st?  I'm  goin  to  the  Island,  and  across  the  bay  to 
Windsor.  Any  word  that  way  ?  No,  says  Mr.  Allen,  none 
that  I  can  think  on,  unless  it  be  to  inquire  how  butter's  goin ; 
they  tell  rne  cheese  is  down,  and  produce  of  all  kind  par- 
ticuiar  dull  this  fall.  Well,  I'm  glad  I  can  tell  that  question, 
said  Slick,  for  I  don't  calculate  to  return  to  these  parts, 
butter  is  risin  a  cent  or  two ;  I  put  mine  ofT  mind  at  ten- 
pence.  Don't  return  1  possible  1  why,  how  you  talk  ?  Have 
you  done  with  the  clock  trade?  I  guess  I  have,  it  tante 
worth  follerin  now.  Most  time,  said  the  other,  larfin,  for 
by  all  accounts  the;  clocks  warn't  worth  havin,  and  most 
infarnal  dear  (too,  folks  begin  to  get  their  eyes  open.  It 
warn't  needed  in  your  case,  said  Mr.  Slick,  with  that  pecu- 
liarly composed  manner  that  indicates  suppressed  feeling, 
for  you  were  always  wide  awake,  if  all  the  folks  had  cut 
their  eye  teeth  as  firly  as  you  did,  their'd  be  plaguy  few 
clocks  sold  in  these  parts,  I  rarkon ;  but  you  an-  right, 
Squire,  you  may  say  that,  they  actually  were  not  worth 
havin,  and  that's  the  truth.  Ti)e  fact  is,  said  he,  throwin 
down  his  reins,  and  affecting  a  most  confidential  tone,  I  fel 
almost  asham*  1  of  them  myself,  I  tell  you.  The  long  and 
short  of  the  matter  is  jist  this,  they  don't  make  no  good 
ones  now-a-days,  no  more,  for  they  calculate  'em  for  ship- 
pin  and  not  for  home  use.  I  was  all  struck  up  of  a  heap, 
when  I  seed  the  last  lot  I  got  from  the  States ;  I  was  pro- 


|V' 


.^...^'k J^rfUu 


m      ■^ 


Irl^"^^ 


168 


V 


THB   CLOCKMAK.^'R. 


perly  bit  by  them,  you  may  dejienc'  ,  tliey  didn't  pny  cost, 
for  I  couldnt  recommend  them  with  a  clear  conscience,  and 
I  must  say  I  do  like  a  fair  deal,  for  Vm  straight  up  and 
down,  and  love  to  go  right  ahead,  that's  a  fact.  Did  you 
ever  see  them  I  fetched  when  I  first  come,  them  I  sold  over 
the  Bay?  No,  said  Mr.  Allen,  I  can't  say  I  did.  Well, 
continued  he,  they  were  a  prime  article,  I  tell  you,  no  mis- 
take there,  fit  for  any  market,  it's  generally  allowed  there 
aint  the  beat  of  them  to  be  found  any  where.  If  you  want 
a  clock,  and  can  lay  your  hands  on  one  of  them,  I  advise 
you  not  to  let  go  the  chance ;  you'll  know  'em  by  the 
*  Lowell'  mark,  for  they  were  all  made  at  Judge  Beler's  fac- 
tory. Squire  Shepody,  down  to  five  Islonds,  axed  me  to 
get  him  one,  and  a  special  job  I  had  of  it,  near  about  more 
sarch  arter  it  than  it  was  worth,  but  I  did  get  him  one,  and 
a  particular  Imndsum  one  it  is,  copald  and  gilt  superior.  I 
guess  it's  worth  ary  half-dozen  in  these  ports,  let  tothers  be 
where  they  may.  If  I  could  a  got  supplied  with  the  like  o' 
them,  I  could  a  mode  a  grand  spec  out  of  them,  for  they 
took  at  once,  and  went  off  quick.  Have  you  got  it  with 
you,  said  Mr.  Allen,  I  should  like  to  see  it.  Yes,  I  hove  it 
here,  all  done  up  in  tow,  as  snug  as  a  bird's  egg,  to  keep  it 
from  jarrin,  for  it  hurts  'em  consumedly  to  jolt  'em  over 
them  are  etarnol  wooden  bridges.  But  it's  no  use  to  take  it 
out,  it  aint  for  sale,  it's  bespoke,  and  I  wouldn't  take  the  same 
trouble  to  get  another  for  twenty  dollars.  The  only  one 
that  I  know  of  thot  there's  any  chance  of  gettin,  is  one  that 
Increase  Crane  has  up  to  Wilmot,  they  say  he's  a  sellin 
oflr. 

After  a  good  deal  of  persuasion,  Mr.  Slick  unpacked  the 
clock,  but  protested  against  his  asking  for  it,  for  it  was  not 
for  sale.  It  was  then  exhibited,  every  part  explained  and 
praised,  as  new  in  invention  and  perfect  in  workmanship. 
Now  Mr.  Allen  had  a  very  exalted  opinion  of  Squire  She- 
pody's  taste,  judgment,  and  saving  knowledge ;  and,  as  it 
was  the  last  and  only  chance  of  gettin  a  clock  of  such  su- 
perior quality,  he  offered  to  take  it  at  the  price  the  Squire 
was  to  have  it,  at  seven  pounds  ten  shillings.  But  Mr 
Slick  vowed  he  couldn't  part  with  it  at  no  rate,  he  didn't 
Know  where  he  could  get  the  like  agin,  (for  he  warn't  quite 


.^^ 


35ss5:^."- 


aULLIlfO   A    BLUB-lfOSB. 


16 


8uro  about  Increase  Crane's)  and  the  Squire  would  bo  ccr,. 
founded  disappointed,  he  couldn't  think  of  it.  In  propor< 
tion  to  the  dill'icuities,  rose  the  ardor  of  Mr.  Allon,  his  otlcrs 
advanced  to  £8,  to  £8  10s.,  to  £9.  I  vow,  said  Mr.  Slick 
I  wish  I  hadn't  let  on  that  I  had  it  at  all.  1  don't  like  to 
refuse  you,  but  where  am  I  to  get  the  like?  after  much  dis- 
cussion of  a  similar  nature,  he  consented  to  part  with  the 
clock,  though  with  great  apparent  reluctance,  and  pocketed 
the  money  with  a  protest  that,  cost  what  it  would,  he  should 
have  to  procure  another,  for  he  couldn't  think  of  putting 
the  Squire's  pipe  out  arter  that  fashion,  for  he  was  a  very 
clever  man,  and  as  fair  as  a  bootjack. 

Now,  said  Mr.  Slick,  as  we  proceeded  on  our  way,  that 
are  fellow  is  properly  sarved,  he  got  the  most  inferior  arti- 
cle I  had,  and  I  jist  doubled  the  price  on  him.  It's  a  pity 
he  should  be  a  tcUin  of  lies  of  the  Yankees  all  the  time, 
this  will  help  him  now  to  a  little  giain  of  truth.  Then 
mimicking  his  voice  and  manner,  he  repeated  Allen's  words 
with  a  strong  nasal  twang,  ♦  Most  time  for  you  to  give  over 
the  clock  trade,  I  guess,  for  by  all  accounts  they  aint  worth 
havin,  and  most  infarnal  dear  too,  folks  begin  to  get  their 
eyes  open.'  Better  for  you,  if  you'd  a  had  yourn  open, 
I  reckon ;  a  joke  is  a  joke,  but  I  concait  you'll  find  that 
no  joke.  The  next  time  you  tell  stories  about  Yankee  ped- 
lars, put  the  wooden  clock  in  with  the  wooden  punkir*  '  ^s, 
and  Hickory  hams,  will  you?  The  blue-noses,  S^uL 
all  like  Zeb  Allen,  they  think  they  know  ever  i  •  ^  l  <  < 
they  get  gulled  from  year's  ecnd  to  year's  dv  in^-y 

expect  too  much  from  others,  and  do  too  litt'  i>--  .tu.^ 
selves.  They  actilly  expect  the  sun  to  shine,  n  '  i*^ 
to  fall,  through  their  little  House  of  Assembly,  vr  nat  have 
you  done  for  us  ?  they  keep  axin  their  members.  Who  did 
you  spunk  up  to  last  Session  ?  jist  as  if  all  legislation  con- 
sisted in  attackin  some  half  dozen  puss  proud  folks  at  Hali- 
fax, who  are  jist  as  big  noodles  as  they  be  themselves. 
You  hear  nothin  but  politics,  politics,  politics,  one  everlastin 
sound  of  give,  give,  give.  If  I  was  Governor  I'd  give  'em 
thf  butt  end  of  my  mind  on  the  subject,  I'd  crack  their 
pates  till  I  let  some  light  in  'em,  if  it  was  me,  I  know.  I'd 
say  to  the  members,  don't  come  down  here  to  Halifax  with 


^Tit.'  T'^i'  .*■*'  ■■■* 


■  '1  ---l     -    •».■ 


f 


"• 


?»^  r 


J  I 


r  ■  ■.„. 


168 


THE  CLOCKMAKfiR. 


your  lockrunis  about  politics,  making  a  great  touss  about 
nothin,  but  open  the  corntry,  foster  agricultur,  encourage 
trade,  incorporate  companies,  make  bridges,  facilitate  con- 
veyance, and  above  all  things  make  a  railroad  from  Wind- 
sor to  Halifax;  and  mind  what  I  tell  you  now,  write  it 
down  for  fear  you  should  forget  it,  for  it's  a  fact ;  and  if 
you  don't  believe  me,  I'll  lick  you  till  you  do,  for  there  aint 
a  word  of  a  lie  in  it,  by  Gum :  One  such  work  as  the 
Windsor  Bridge  is  worth  all  your  laws,  votes,  speeches, 
and  resolutions,  for  the  last  ten  years,  if  tied  up  and  put 
into  a  meal  bag  together.  If  it  tante,  I  hope  I  may  be 
shot. 


.».■        •■: » 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


TOO  MANY  IRONS  IN  THE  FIRE. 


Wb  had  a  pleasant  sail  of  three  hours  from  Parrsborough 
to  Windsor.  The  arrivals  and  departures  by  water  are 
regulated  at  this  place  by  tb  :^  tide,  and  it  was  sunset  before 
we  reached  Mrs.  Wilcox's  comfortable  inn.  Here,  as  at 
other  places,  Mr.  Slick  seemed  to  be  perfectly  at  home ;  and 
he  pointed  to  a  wooden  clock,  as  a  proof  of  his  successful 
and  extended  trade,  and  of  the  universal  influence  of  ♦  soft 
sawder,'  and  a  knowledge  of  *  human  natur.'  Taking  out 
a  penknife,  he  cut  off  a  splinter  from  a  stick  of  firewood, 
and  balancing  himself  on  one  leg  of  his  chair,  by  the  aid 
of  his  right  foot,  commenced  his  favourite  amusement  of 
whittling,  which  he  generally  pursued  in  silence.  Indeed 
it  appeared  to  have  become  with  him  an  indispensable 
accompaniment  of  reflection. 

He  sat  in  this  abstracted  manner,  until  he  had  manu- 
factured into  delicate  shavings  the  whole  of  his  raw  material, 
when  he  very  ''  'Iberately  resumed  a  position  of  more  ease 
and  security,  vy  resting  his  legs  on  two  chairs  instead  of 
one,  and  putting  both  his  feet  on  the  mantelpiece.  Then, 
Kguting  his  cigar,  he  said  in  his   usual  quiet  manner, 


TOO  U/SY   IRONS  Ilff     THE   FIRE. 


109 


sinu- 
rial, 
ease 
of 
en, 


« There'^  a:  plaguy  s'ght  of  truth  in  them  are  old  piroverbs. 
They  are  distilled  fafjts  steamed  down  to  an  essence.  They 
are  like  portable  soup,  an  amaziu  deal  of  matter  in  a  small 
compass.  They  are  what  I  valy  most,  experience.  Father 
used  to  say,  I'd  as  lives  have  an  old  homespun,  self-taught 
doctor  as  are  a  Professor  in  the  College  at  Philadelphia  or 
New  York  to  attend  me ;  for  what  they  do  know,  they 
know  by  experience,  and  not  by  books ;  and  experience  is 
everything,  it's  hearin,  and  seein,  and  tryin,  and  arter  that 
a  feller  must  be  a  born  fool  if  he  don't  know.  That's  tho 
beauty  of  old  proverbs ;  they  are  as  true  as  k  plum  line, 
and  as  short  and  sweet  as  sugar  candy.  Now  when  you 
come  to  see  all  about  this  country,  you'll  find  the  truth  of 
that  are  one — *  a  man  that  has  too  many  irons  in  the  fre, 
is  plaguy  apt  to  get  some  on  'cot  burnt.^ 

Do  you  recollect  that  are  tree  I  show'd  you  to  Parrsboro', 
it  was  all  covered  with  black  knobs.,  like  a  wart  rubbed  with 
caustic.  Well,  the  plum  trees  had  the  same  disease  a  few 
years  ago,  and  they  all  died,  and  the  cherry  trees  I  concait 
will  go  for  it  too.  The  farms  here  are  all  covered  with  the 
same  *  black  knobsy^  and  they  do  look  like  old  Scratch.  If 
you  see  a  place  all  gone  to  wrack  and  ruin,  it's  mortgaged 
you  may  depend.  The  *  black  tenoF  is  on  it.  My  plan, 
you  know,  is  to  ax  leave  to  put  a  clock  in  a  house,  and  let 
it  be  till  I  return.  I  never  say  a  word  about  sellin  it,  for  I 
know  when  I  come  back,  they  won't  let  it  go  arter  they  Jire 
once  used  to  it.  Well,  when  I  first  came,  I  knowed  no  one, 
and  I  was  forced  to  inquire  whether  a  man  was  good  for  it, 
afore  I  left  it  with  him ;  so  I  made  a  pint  of  axin  all  about 
every  man's  place,  that  lived  on  the  road.  Who  lives  up 
there  in  the  big  house?  says  I — it's  a  nice  location  that, 
pretty  considerable  improvements,  them.  Why,  Sir,  that's 
A.  B.'s  ;  he  was  well  to  do  in  the  world  once,  carried  a  stiff 
upper  lip  and  keered  for  no  one ;  he  was  one  of  our  grand 
aristocrats,  wore  a  long-tailed  coat,  and  a  ruffled  shirt,  bu< 
he  must  take  to  ship  buildin,  and  has  gone  to  the  dogs.  Oh, 
said  I,  too  many  irons  in  the  fire.  Well,  the  next  farm, 
where  the  pigs  are  in  the  potatoe  field,  whose  is  that  ?  Oh 
Sir,  that's  C.  D.'s. ;  he  was  a  considerable  forehanded  farmer. 
as  any  in  our  nla?6'j  but  he  sot  up  for  an  Assembly -man, 
15 


■:*• 


'^1 


I 


\ 


r    il 


170 


THE  CL0C1SMA]fm» 


11 


!  n 


and  opened  a  Store,  and  things  went  agin  him  somehow^  hf 
had  no  luck  arterwards.     I  hear  his  place  is  mortga^d 
and  they've  got  him  cited  in  chancery.     *  The  black  knob- 
is  on  him,  said  I.     The  black  what,  Sir,  says  blue-pose 
Nothin,  says  I.    But  the  ne:$:t,  who  improves  that  house  1 
Why  that's  E.  F's. ;  he  was  the  greatest  farmer  in  these 
parts,  another  of  the  aristocracy,  had  a  mosjt  noble  stock 
o*  cattle,  and  the  matter  of  some  hundreds  out  in  jint  notes  1 
well  he  took  the  contract  for  beef  with  the  troops ;  and 
he  fell  astarn,  so  I  guess  it's  a  gone  goose  with  him.    He's 
heavy  mortgaged.     *  Too  many  irons'  agin,  said  |.     Who 
lives  to  the  lefl  there  ?  that  man  has  a  most  special  fine 
intervale,  and  a  grand  orchard  too,  he  must  be  a  good  mark 
that.     Well  he  was  once.  Sir,  a  few  years  ago ;  but  he 
built  a  fullin  mill,  and  a  cardin  mill,  and  put  up  a  lumber 
establishment,  and  speculated  in  the  West  Indy  line,  but 
the  dam  was  carried  away  by  the  freshets,  the  lumber  fell, 
and  faith  he  fell  too ;  he's  shot  up,  he  han't  been  see'd  these 
two  years,  his  farm  is  a  common,  and  fairly  run  out.     Oh, 
said  I,  I  understand  now,  my  man,  these  folks  had  too  many 
irons  in  the  fire,  you  see,  and  some  on  'em  have  got  burnt. 
I  never  heerd  tell  of  it,  says  blue-nose ;  they  might,  but 
not  to  my  knowledge ;  and  he  scratched  his  head  and  looked 
as  if  he  would  ask  the  meanin  of  it,  but  didn't  like  to. 
Arter  that  I  ai^ed  no  more  questions ;  I  knew  a  mortgaged 
farm  as  far  as  I  could  see  it.     There  was  a  strong  family 
likeness  in  'em  all — the  same  ugly  features,  the  same  cast 
o'  countenance.     The  '  black  knob'  was  discernible — there 
was  no  mistake — barn  doors  broken  off — fences  burnt  up-^ 
glass  out  of  windpws^more  white  crops  than  green — and 
both  looking  weedy — no  wood  pile,  no  sarce  garden,  no 
compost,  no  stock — moss  in  the  mowin  lands,  thistles  in  the 
ploughed   lands,  and   neglect  every  where — skinnin   had 
commenced — takin  all  out  and  puttin  nothin  in — gittin  ready 
for  a  move,  so  as  to  leave  nothin  behind.     Flittin  time  had 
come.    Foregatberin,  for  foreclosing   Preparin  to  curse  and 
quit. — -That  beautiful  river  we  came  up  to  day,  what  super- 
fine farms  it  has  on  both  sides  of  it,  hante  it  ?  it's  a  sight 
to  behold.     Our  folks  have  no  notion  of  such  a  country  so 
far  down  east,  beyond  creation  most,  as  Nova  Scotia  is.     If 
1  was  to  draw  up  an  account  of  it  for  the  Slickville  Gazette 


i  ' 


i  L 


TOO   MAKTt   IftOlfd   Ilir    IHE   FIRE. 


171 


up— 
-and 


I  guets  few  would  accept  it  as  a  bona  fide  draft,  without 
some  sponsible  man  to  indorse  it,  that  warnt  given  to  flam- 
min.  They'd  say  there  was  a  land  speculation  to  the  bottom 
of  it,  or  a  water  privilege  to  put  into  the  market,  or  a 
ptaister  rock  to  get  off,  or  some  such  scheme.  They  would 
I  snore.  Bbl  I  hope  I  may  never  see  daylight  agin,  if 
(here's  sich  a  country  in  all  our  great  nation,  as  tlie  m-cir- 
ity  of  Windsor.  .^    .,      ,.,^,.         ,,  7<,r,<<i» 

Now  its  jist  as  like  as  nbt,  i^ilie'goney  of  a  blue-iiose, 
that  see'd  us  from  his,  fields,  sailin  all  up  full  split,  with  a 
faiil  wind  on  the  packet,  went  right  off  honne  and  said  to  his 
wife,  *  Now  do  for  gracious  sake,  mother,  jist  look  here,  and 
see  how  slick  them  folks  go  along  5  arid  that  Captain  has 
Dothin  to  do  all  daly,  but  sit  straddle  legs  across  his  tiller, 
and  order  about  his  sailors,  or  talk  like  a  gentleman  to  his 
passengers:  he's  got  most  as  easy  a  time  of  it  as  Ami 
Cuttle  has,  since  he  took  up  the  fur  trade,  a  snarin  rabbits. 
I  guess  I'll  buy  a  vessel,  and  leave  the  ladis  to  do  the  plowin 
and  little  chores,  they've  growed  up  now  to  be  considerable 
lumps  of  boys.  Well  away  he'll  go,  hot  foot,  (for  I  know 
the  crittei's  betteir  lior  thfey  kiiow  themselves)  and  he'll  go 
aiad  buy  iSome  old  wrack  of  A  vessel,  to  carry  plaister,  and 
mortgage  his  farm  to  pay  for  her.  The  vessel  will  jam 
liim  up  tight  for  repairs  and  new  riggin,  and  the  Sheriff 
vvill  soon  pay  him  a  visit ;  (arid  he's  a  most  pa..'dcular  trou- 
blesbriie  visiter  that ;  if  he  once  only  gets  a  slight  ho^M'ye- 
do  acquaintance,  he  becomes  so  amaZiri  intimate  irterwards, 
a  comin  in  without  kriocki,Tj,  and  a  runnin  in  arid  out  at  all 
hours,  arid  riiakin  so  plaguy  free  arid  ^asy,  its  about:  as 
much  as  a  bargain  if  yon  can  get  clear  of  him  arterwards.) 
Benipt  by  the  tide,  and  benipt  by  the  Sherilfi  the  vessel 
makes  short  work  witli  him.  Well,  the  upshot  is.  the 
farm  gets  rieglected  while  Captain  Cuddy  is  to  sea  a  drojrin 
of  plalstei*.  The  thistles  run  over  his  grain  fields,  his  cat- 
tle ifxin  over  his  hay  land,  the  interest  ruris  over  its  time, 
the  mortgage  runs  over  all,  and  at  last  he  jist  runs  over  to 
the  lines  to  Eastpbrt,  himself.  And  when  he  imds  himself 
there,  a  stdildiri  in  the  street,  near  Major  Pine's  tavern,  with 
his  hands  irt  his  trowser  pockets,  a  chasin  of  a  stray  shillin 
fioin  one  eend  of  'em  to  another,  afore  he  can  catch  it,  to 


y:^ 


\ 


I, 


!  ilt 


!■. 


% 


i-  if 


%  t 


ii; 


Ii 


178 


THE   CtOCKMAKER. 


swap  for  a  dinner,  wont  be  look  like  a  ravin  distracted  fool 
that's  all  ?  He'll  feel  about  as  streaked  as  I  did  once,  a 
ridin  down  the  St.  John  river.  It  was  the  fore  part  of 
March — I'd  been  up  to  Fredericton  a  speculatin  in  a  smdl 
matter  of  lumber,  and  was  returnin  to  the  city,  a  gallopin 
along  on  one  of  old  Buntin's  horses,  on  the  e,  and  all  at 
once  I  missed  my  horse,  he  went  right  slap  in  and  slid 
under  the  ice  out  of  sight  as  quick  as  wink,  and  there  I  was 
a  standin  all  alone.  Well,  says  I,  what  the  dogs  has  be- 
come of  my  horse  and  portmantle  1  they  have  given  me  a 
proper  dodge,  that's  a  fact.  That  is  a  narrer  squeak,  it 
fairly  bangs  all.  Well,  I  guess  he'll  feel  near  about  as 
ugly,  when  he  finds  himself  brought  up  all  standin  that 
way ;  and  it  will  come  so  sudden  on  him,  he'll  say,  why  It 
aint  possible  I've  lost  farm  and  vessel  both,  in  tu  tu's  that 
way,  but  I  don't  see  neither  on  'em.  Eastport  is  near  about 
all  made  up  of  folks  who  have  had  to  cut  and  run  for  it. 

I  was  down  there  last  fall,  and  who  should  I  see  but 
Thomas  Rigby,  of  Windsor.  He  knew  me  the  minit  he 
laid  eyes  upon  me,  for  I  had  sold  him  a  clock  the  summer 
afore.  (I  got  paid  for  it,  though,  for  I  see*d  he  had  too 
many  irons  in  the  fire  not  to  get  some  on  'em  burnt ;  and 
besides,  I  knew  every  fall  and  spring  the  wind  set  in  for  the 
lines  from  Windsor,  very  strong — a  regular  trade  wind— 
a  sort  of  monshune,  that  blows  all  one  way,  for  a  long  time 
without  shiftin.)  Well,  I  felt  proper  sorry  for  him,  for  he 
was  ff*very  clever  man^  and  looked  cut  up  dreadfully,  and 
amazin  down  in  the  mouth.  Why,  says  I,  possible !  is  that 
you  Mr.  Rigby  ?  why,  as  I  am  alive !  if  that  aint  my  old 
friend — why  how  do  you  1  Hearty,  I  thank  you,  said  he, 
how  be  you  ?  Reasonable  well,  I  give  you  thanks,  says  I , 
but  what  on  airth  brought  you  here  ?  Why,  says  he,  Mr. 
Slick,  I  couldn't  well  avoid  it ;  times  are  uncommon  dull 
over  the  bay ;  there's  nofhin  stirrin  there  this  year,  and 
wever  will  I'm  thinkin.  No  mortal  sf  I  can  live  in  Nova 
Scotia.  I  do  Ijelieve  that  our  country  was  made  of  a  Satur- 
day night,  arter  all  the  rest  of  the  Univarse  was  finished. 
One  half  of  it  has  got  all  the  ballast  of  Noah's  ark  thrown 
out  there ;  and  the  other  half  is  eat  up  by  Bankers,  Law- 
yers, and  other  great  folks.     All  our  money  goes  to  pay 


TOO   MANY    IROirS   IN    THE   FIRE. 


17S 


J  ova 
itur- 
khed. 
rown 

iEW- 

ipay 


ttilarip«,  Otld  a  poor  man  has  no  chance  at  all.  Well,  saj-B 
I,  are  you  doLe  up  stock  aad  fluke — a  total  wrack  7  No, 
says  he,  I  have  two  hundred  pounds  letl  yet  to  the  good, 
but  my  farm,  stock,  ar  'l  utensils,  them  young  blood  horses, 
and  the  bran  new  vessel  I  was  a  buildin,  are  all  c^ne  tn 
pot,  swept  as  clean  as  a  thrashiti  floor,  that's  a  faci  i  Shark 
and  Co.  took  all.  Well,  says  I,  do  you  know  the  reason 
of  all  that  misfbrvin  ?  Oh,  says  he,  any  fool  can  tell  that; 
bad  times  to  be  siire— every  thing  has  turned  agin  the  coun* 
try,  the  banks  have  it  all  their  own  way,  and  njuch'good 
may  it  do  'em.  Well,  says  I,  what's  the  reason  the  banks 
don't  eat  us  up  too,  for  I  guess  they  are  as  hungry  as 
yourn  be,  Biid  no  way  particular  about  their  food  neither; 
considerable  sharp  set-— cut  like  razors,  you  may  depend; 
I'll  tell  you,  says  I,  how  you  got  that  are  slide,  that  sent 
you  heels  over  head—'  You  had  too  many  irons  in  thejire^* 
You  hadn't  ought  to  have  taken  hold  of  ship  buildin  at  all; 
you  knov^ed  nothin  about  it  1  you  should  have  stuck  to 
your  farm,  and  your  farm  would  have  stuck  to  you.  Noy^ 
go  back,  afore  you  spend  your  money,  go  up  to  Douglas^ 
and  you'll  buy  as  good  a  farm  for  two  hundred  pounds  as 
what  you  lost,  and  see  to  that,  and  to  th&t  only,  and  you'll 
grow  rich.  As  for  banks,  they  can't  hurt  a  country  no 
great,  I  guess,  except  by  breakin,  and  I  concait  there's  no 
fear  of  yourn  breakin  ;  and  as  for  lawyers,  and  them  kind 
o'  heavy  coaches,  give  'em  half  the  road,  and  if  thej|i  run 
agin  you,  take  the  law  of  'em.  Undividtd^  unremittin  aft 
tention  paid  to  one  things  in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a' hun- 
dred, will  ensure  success;  hut  you  know  the  old  sayin 
about '  too  many  irons.'' 

Now,  says  1,  Mr.  Rigby,  what  o'clock  is  it?  Why,  says 
he,  the  moon  is  up  a  piece,  I  guess  it's  seven  o'clock  or 
thereabouts.  I  suppose  it's  time  to  be  a  movin.  Stop,  say« 
I,  jist  come  with  me,  I  got  a  rael  nateral  curiosity  to  siiow 
you — such  a  thing  as  you  never  laiJ  your  eyes  on  in  Nova 
Scotia,  I  know.  So  we  walked  along  towards  the  beach  , 
Now,  says  I,  look  at  that  are  man,  old  Lunar,  and  his  son, 
a  savvin  plank  by  moonlight,  for  that  are  vessel  on  the 
stocks  there;  come  agin  to  morrow  mornin  afore  you  can 
cleverly  discarn  objects  the  matter  of  a  yard  or  so  afore 
15* 


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;«»«-       THE   CLOOKMAKCR.       ^V. . 


you,  and  you  II  find  'em  at  it  agin.  I  guess  that  vess^ 
wont  ruinate  those  folks.  They  know  their  business  and 
stick  to  it.  Well,  away  went  Rigby,  considerable  sulky, 
(for  he  had  no  notion  that  it  was  his  own  fault,  he  laid  all 
the  blame  on  the  folks  to  Halifax,)  but  I  guess  he  was  a 
little  grain  posed,  for  back  he  went,  and  bought  to  Sowack 
where  I  hear  he  has  a  better  farm  than  he  had  afore. 

I  mind  once  we  had  an  Irish  gall  as  a  dairy  help  ;  well 
we  had  a  wicked  devil  of  a  cow,  and  she  kicked  over  the 
milk  pail,  and  in  ran  Dora,  and  swore  the  Bogle  did  it ;  jist 
so  poor  Rigby,  he  wouldn't  allow  it  to  be  nateral  causes, 
but  laid  it  all  to  politics.  Talkin  of  Dora,  puts  me  in  mind 
of  the  galls,  for  she  warnt  a  bad  lookin  heifer  that :  my ! 
what  an  eye  she  had,  and  I  concaited  she  had  a  particular 
small  foot  and  ankle  too,  when  I  helped  her  up  once  into 
the  hay  mow,  to  sarch  for  eggs ;  but  I  cant  exactly  say,  for 
when  she  brought  'em  in,  mother  8i><x>k  her  head  and  said 
it  was  dangerous ,  she  said  she  might  fall  through  and  hurt 
herself,  and,  always  sent  old  Snow  arterwards.  She  was  a 
considerable  of  a  long  he;aded  woman,  was  mother,  she 
could  see  as  far  ahead  as  most  folks.  She  warnt  born  yes- 
terday, I  guess.  But  that  are  proverb  is  true  as  respects 
the  galls  too.  Whenever  yo  see  one  on  'em  with  a  whole 
lot  of  sweethearts,  it's  an  even  chance  if  she  gets  married 
to  any  on  'em.  One  cools  off,  and  another  cools  off,  and 
before  she  brings  any  one  on  'em  to  the  right  weldin  heat, 
the  coal  is  gone  and  the  fire  is  out.  Then  she  may  blow 
and  blow  till  she's  tired ;  she  may  blow  up  a  dust,  but  the 
deuce  of  a  flame  can  she  blow  up  agin  to  save  her  soul 
alive.  I  never  see  a  clever  lookin  gall  in  danger  of  that, 
I  don't  long  to  whisper  in  her  ear,  you  dear  little  critter, 
you,  take  care,  you  have  too  many  irons  in  the  JirCj  some 
on  'em  will  get  stone  cold,  and  tother  ones  will  get  burnt  so 
theyHl  never  be  no  f^ood  in  naiur.  -  . 


;  I 


ili: 


WII7DS0R   AND   THE   FAR   WK8T 


1*75 


my 


CHAPTER  XXXni.  ^^^^^^  .  Vi«v4.*;: 

WINDSOR  AND  THE  FAR  WEST.       '-^  '-^^  ^ » 


The  text  mornin  the  Clock  maker  proposed  to  take  a 
drive  round  the  neighbourhood.  You  hadn't  out,  says  he, 
to  be  in  a  hurry ;  you  should  see  the  incinity  of  this  loca- 
tion ;  there  aint  the  beat  of  it  to  be  found  anywhere. 

While  the  servants  were  harnessing  old  Clay,  we  went  to 
see  a  new  bridge,  which  had  recently  been  erected  over  the 
Avon  River.  That,  said  he,  is  a  splendid  thing.  A  New 
Yorker  built  it,  and  the  folks  in  St.  John  paid  for  it.  You 
mean  of  Halifax,  said  I ;  St.  John  is  in  the  other  province. 
I  mean  what  I  say,  he  replied,  and  it  is  a  credit  to  New 
Brunswick.  No,  Sir,  the  Halifax  folks  neither  know  nor 
keer  much  about  the  country — they  wouldn't  take  hold  on 
it,  and  if  they  had  a  waited  for  them,  it  would  have  been 
one  while  afore  they  got  a  bridge,  I  tell  you.  They've  no 
spirit,  and  plaguy  little  sympathy  with  the  country,  and  I'll 
tell  you  the  reason  on  it.  There  are  a  great  many  people  there 
from  other  parts,  and  always  have  been,  who  come  to  make 
money  and  nothin  else,  who  don't  call  it  home,  and  don't 
feel  to  home,  and  who  intend  to  up  killoch  and  off,  as  soon 
as  they  have  made  their  ned  out  of  the  blue-noses.  Thoy 
have  got  about  as  much  regard  for  the  country  as  a  pedlar 
has,  who  trudges  along  with  a  pack  on  his  back.  He  walksy 
cause  he  intends  to  ride  at  last ;  trusts,  cause  he  intends  to 
sue  at  last ;  smiles,  cause  he  intends  to  cheat  at  last ;  saves 
all,  cause  he  intends  to  move  all  at  last.  Its  actilly  over 
run  with  transient  paupers,  and  transient  speculators,  and 
these  last  grumble  and  growl  like  a  bear  with  a  sore  head, 
the  whole  blessed  time,  at  every  thing;  and  can  hardly 
keep  a  civil  tongue  in  their  head,  while  they're  fobbin  your 
money  hand  over  hand.  These  critters  feel  no  interest  in 
any  thing  but  cent  per  cent ;  they  deaden  public  spirit ; 
they  han't  got  none  themselves,  and  they  larf  at  it  in  others ; 
and  when  you  add  their  numbers  to  the  timid  ones,  the 


■■i 


p-l]^papjij3sf\' 


f« 


{■^•^, 


tM  ch&dkikA^n.     ^  w 


stingy  ones,  the  ignorant  ones,  and  the  poor  ones,  that  are 
to  be  found  in  every  place,  why  the  few  smart  spirited 
ones  that's  led,  are  too  few  to  do  any  thing,  and  so  nothin 
is  done.  Jt  appears  to  me  if  I  was  a  blue-nose  I'd  — >- 
but  thank  fortin  I  aint,  so  I  says  nothin — but  there  is  some- 
thin  that  aint  altogether  jist  right  in  this  country,  that's  a 
fact. 

But  what  a  country  this  Bay  country  is,  isn't  it  ?  Look 
ot  that  medder,  beant  it  lovely  ?  The  Prayer  Eyes  of  the 
lUaooy  are  the  top  of  the  ladder  with  us,  but  these  dykes 
take  the  shine  off  them  by  a  long  chalk,  that's  sartin. 
The  land  in  our  far  west,  it  is  generally  allowed  can't  be 
no  better ;  what  you  plant  is  sure  to  grow  and  yield  well, 
and  food  is  so  cheap,  you  can  live  there  for  half  nothin. 
But  it  don't  agree  with  us  New  England  folks ;  we  don't 
enjoy  good  health  there  ;  and  what  in  the  world  is  the  usd 
of  food,  if  you  have  such  an  etamal  dyspepsy  you  can't 
digest  it.  A  man  can  hardly  live  there  till  next  grass, 
afore  he  is  in  the  yaller  leaf.  Just  like  one  of  our  bran 
new  vessels  built  down  in  Maine,  of  the  best  hackmatack, 
or  what's  bettef  still,  of  our  real  American  live  oak,  (and 
that's  allowed  to  be  about  the  best  in  the  world)  send  her 
off  to  the  West  Indies,  and  let  her  lie  there  awhile,  and  the 
worms  will  riddle  her  bottom  all  full  6f  holes  like  a  tin  cul- 
lender, or  a  board  w*ith  a  grist  of  duck  shot  thro'  it,  you- 
wouldn't  believe  what  ct  htire  they  be.  Well,  that's  jist  the' 
case  with  the  western  climate.  The  heat  takes  the  solder 
out  of  the  knees,  and  elbows,  weakens  the  joints,  and 
makes  the  frame  ricketty.  v  ^- 

Besides,  we  like  the  smell  of  the  Salt  Water,  it  s6feWi*' 
kinder  nateral  to  us  New  Englanders.  We  can  make 
more  a  plowin  of  the  seas,  than  plowin  of  a  prayer  eye. 
It  would  take  a  bottom  near  about  as  long  as  Connecticut 
river,  to  raise  wheat  enough  to  buy  tlie  cargo  of  a  Nan- 
tucket whaler,  or  a  Salem  tea  ship.  And  then  to  leave 
one's  folks,  and  untive  place,  where  one  was  raised,  halter 
broke,  and  trained  to  go  in  gear,  and  exchange  all  the 
comforts  of  the  Old  States,  for  them  are  new  ones,  dont 
seem  to  go  down  well  at  all.  Why  ihe  very  sight  of  the' 
Yankee  galls  is  good  for  sore  eyes,  the  dear  little  critters^ 


WIITDSOR   AND   THE    FAR   WEST. 


177 


they  do  look  so  scrumptious,  I  tell  you,  with  their  checks 
bloornin  like  a  red  rose  budded  on  a  white  one,  and  their 
eyes  like  Mrs.  >dams^s  diamonds  (that  folks  say  shine  as 
well  in  the  dark  as  in  the  light,)  neck  like  a  swan,  lips 
chock  full  of  kisses — lick !  it  fairly  makes  one*s  mouth 
V   .  T  to  think  on  'em.     But  it's  no  use  talkin,  they  are 
just  made  critters,  that's  a  fact,  full  of  health  and  life,  and 
beauty, — now,  to  change  them   are  splendid  white  water 
lilies   of  Connecticut  and   Rhode   Island,   for   the   yaller 
crocusses  of  Illanoy,  is  what  we  dont  like.     It  goes  most 
confoundedly  agin   the  grain,  I  tell  you.     Poor  critters, 
when  they  get  away  back  there,  they  grow  as  thin  as  a 
sawed  lath,  their  little  peepers  are  as  dull  as  a  boiled  cod- 
fish, their  skin  looks  like  yaller  fever,  and  they  seem  all 
mouth  like  a  crocodile.     And  that's  not  the  worst  of  it 
neither,  for  when  a  woman  begins  to  grow  sailer  it's  all 
over  with  her ;  she's  up  a  tree  then  you  may  depend, 
there*s  no  mistake.     You  can  no  more  bring  back  her 
bloom,  than  you  can  the  color  to  a  leaf  the  frost  has 
touched  in  ihe  fall.     It's  gone  goose  with  her,  that's  a 
fact.     And  that's  not  all,  for  the  temper  is  plaguy  apt  to 
change  with  the  cheek  too.     When  the  freshness  of  youth 
is  on  the  move,  the  sweetness  of  temper  is  amazin  apt  to 
start  along  with  it.     A  bilious  cheek  and  a  sour  temper  are 
like  the  Siamese  twins,  there's  a  nateral  cord  of  union 
atween  them.     The  one  is  a  sign  board,  with  the  name 
of  the   firm  written  on  it  in  big  letters.     He  that  dont 
know  this,  cant  rei-c    I  guess.     It's  no  use  to  cry  over 
spilt  milk,  we  all  kr^"-,  but  it's  easier  said  than  done  that. 
Women  kind,  and  especially  single  folks,  will   take  on 
dreadful  at  the  fadin  of  their  roses,  and  their  frettin  only 
seems   to   make   the   thorns  look  sharper.     Our  minister 
used  to  say  to  sister  Sail,  (and  when  she  was  young  she 
was  a  rael  witch,  a  :nost  an  everlastin  sweet  girl,)  Sally, 
he  used  to  say,  now's  the  time  to  lam,  when  you  are 
young ;  store  your  n.in'l  well,  dear,  and  the  fragrance  will 
remain  long  arter  the  rose  has  shed  its  leaves.     The  ottar 
of  roses  is  stronger  than  the  rose,  and  a  plagvy  sight 
more  valuable.     Sail  '^rote  it  down,  she  said  it  wai'nt  a 
bad  idee  that ;    but   lather   larfed,   he  said  he    guessed 


"    I 


-'"1. 


1^§ 


■•0ii- 


int  tLOoiaiKKti. 


minister's  courtin  days  warnt  over,  when  he  jude  ^c^ 
pretty  speeches  as  that  are  to  the  galls.  Now,  who 
would  go  to  expose  his  wife  or  his  darters,  or  himself,  to 
tho  dangers  of  such  k  climat'^,  for  the  sake  of  30  bushels 
of  wheat  to  the  acrt,  instc  ;  of  15.  There  seems  a 
kinder  somethin  in  us  that  rises  in  our  throat  when  we 
think  on  it,  and  wont  let  us.  We  dont  like  it.  Give 
me  the  shore,  and  let  them  that  like  the  Par  West,  go 
there,  I  say. 

This  place  is  as  fertile  as  Illanoy  ot  Ohio,  as  healthy  as 
tiny  part  of  the  globe,  and  right  along  side  of  the  salt  wa- 
ter ;  but  the  folks  want  three  things — Induttrjfi  Bnterprize, 
Economy;  these  hlue-noses  donU  know  how  to  valy  this 
location — only  look  at  it,  and  see  wliat  a  place  for  bisuess  it 
is — the  centre  of  the  Province — the  nateral  capital  of  the 
Basin  of  Minas,  and  part  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy— the  great 
thorouglifare  to  St.  John,  Canada,  and  the  United  States — 
the  exports  of  lime,  gypsum,  freestone  and  grindstone — the 
dykes — but  it's  no  use  talkin  ;  I  wish  we  had  it,  ihaf  s  all 
Our  folks  afe  like  a  rock  maple  tree — stick  'em  in  any 
where,  butt  eend  up  and  top  down,  and  they  will  take  root 
and  grow ;  but  put  'em  iii  a  rael  good  soil  like  this,  and 
give'  'em  a  fair  chance,  and  they  will  go  a  head  and  thrive 
right  off,  most  amazin  fast,  that's  a  fact.     Yes,  if  we  had 
it  we  would  make  another  guess  place  of  it  from  what  it  is 
In  one  year  we  would  have  a  rail-road  to  Halifax^  which, 
unlike  the  stone  that  killed  two  birds,  would  be  the  niakin 
of  both  places.     I  oflen  tell  the  folks  this,  but  all  they  can 
say,  is,  oh  we  are  too  poor  and'  too  young.     Says  I,  You 
put  me  in  mind  of  a  great  long  legged,  long  tail  colt  father 
had.     He  never  changed  his  name  of  colt  as  long  as  he 
lived,  and  he  was  as  old  as  the  hills ;  and  though  he  had 
the  best  of  feed,  was  as  thin.aia  a  whippin  post.     He  was 
colt  all  his  days — always  young — always  poor ;  and  young- 
and  poor  you'll  be  I  guess  to  the  eend  of  the  chapter. 

On  our  return  to  the  Inn,  the  weather,  which  had  been 
tb^'eatening  for  sometime  past,  became  very  tempestuous. 
h  rained  for  three  successive  days,  and  the  roads  wer^ 
almost  impassable.  To  continue  my  journey  was  wholly 
out  of  the  question.  I  determined,  therefore,  to  take  a 
•eat  in  the  coach  for  Halifax,  and  defer  until  next  year  the 


*55!:--J^pp^P^P 


WINDSOR   AND   THiu   FAR   WEST.  ' 


170 


remaining  part  of  my  tour.  Mr.  Slick  agreed  to  meet  me 
here  in  June,  and  to  provide  i'ut  me  the  same  conveyance 
1  had  used  from  Amherst.  I  look  forward  with  much  plea- 
sure to  our  meeting  again.  His  munner  and  idiom  were  to 
me  perfectly  new  and  very  amusing ;  while  his  good  sound 
sense,  searching  observa  i,  and  queer  humour,  rendered 
his  conversation  at  oi  o  valuable  and  interesting.  There 
are  many  subject;  on  which  I  should  like  to  draw  him  out ; 
and  I  promise  m^   ^If  a  fi  nd  of  amusement  in  his  remarks 

t^'  aiiu  manners  at  Halifax,  and  the 

rovernmeiit,  on  both  of  which  he 

»any  original  and  some  very  just 


on  the  state   jf 
machinery  of  the  ■>. 
appears  to  ent  "*" 
opinions. 

As  he  took  leave 


■  in  the  coach,  he  whispered,  *  In- 
side of  your  great  \iv^  .ioak  you  will  find  wrapped  up  a 
box,  containin  a  thousand  rael  genuine  first  chop  Havanahs 
— no  mistake — the  clear  thing.  When  you  smoke  *em, 
think  sometimes  of  your  old  companion, '  Sam  Slick  thb 
Clockmakbr.' 


THE  END 


;^.;_,  ,^;^;, '_  ^^ 


Z-  '.-.{.    -    ^-f'iv,  .  ,1  J^   J  *'^-i 


